Diary of a Songbird
by idreamofdraco
Summary: Hermione Granger has a secret and Draco Malfoy is curious. Why is she so dependent on her diary, and what happened to make her that way? Can Hermione trust herself with a person like Malfoy, or will he only make things worse? Compliant up to OotP.
1. Descriptions and Mysteries

**(A/N): This is my first fan fic. (Go me, go me, it's your birthday!) I hope you like it! I have high hopes for this fic and I will try to update as often as I can! **

**Disclaimer: (I'd forgotten this before, but now I'm fixing it!) As much as I loathe to admit it, Harry Potter and Co. Do not belong to me... Hey, I'm not even a British citizen!**

**(EDIT): 3/19/06—Thanks to my lovely beta, Audry, who is now helping me fix up the story! Any mistakes are a result of my own fiddling after she sent back the chapter. Keep in mind this story was written before HBP so a lot of things are not HBP-compliant. In later chapters, I may incorporate a few, not major things from the sixth book.

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**Descriptions and Mysteries:**

Hermione Granger sat at a quaint café in the middle of a busy plaza in London. She and her friends conversed at a small round table talking about everything that had been going on in the world. Well, _almost_ everything.

Hermione listened to her friend Jessica describe a boy she had a crush on. Since Hermione went to a boarding school, she didn't know the same people Jessica and Adrian knew. Not that she would have given up her…_magical_ experiences at her school just to know who the hottest guy at London Central High School was. What her friends didn't know about Hermione was that she _did_ have magical experiences; she was magical herself. She was a witch, in fact, just like all the students— and most of the staff—at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Every year when Hermione went away to school, she went to Hogwarts to memorize spells and learn how to brew potions. At the end of summer break, she would be in her seventh and last year of school. This part of Hermione's world was a complete secret to Jessica, Adrian, and all of the people in the entire world who were not magically capable. These people were called Muggles by the wizarding world.

"…eyes like chocolate and a military buzz cut. God, he makes me _ache_ in all the right places..." The two girls laughed at Jessica's remark. She didn't take offense, in fact, she laughed with Hermione and Adrian.

"God, Jessica, you can be so perverted sometimes!" Hermione choked out through her laughter.

"You should see him! You'd want him too, you know, but you can't have him. He's mine!"

Still laughing Hermione replied, "Right, like _any_ guy would want me!"

Adrian had stopped laughing and looked at Hermione critically. "You know, you are always putting yourself down and it's not healthy."

"Yeah, you look gorgeous, but you don't see the way guys drool over you! When you go back to your school, everyone is going to be speechless!" Jessica flung her arms out beside her to emphasize her meaning.

_I have changed a lot this summer..._ Hermione thought to herself. Her hair used to be a big bushy puff of fluff, but her mom had bought her new hair care products to make it sleek and wavy. Even though her dad didn't like to see his baby girl wearing makeup, she wore just the right amount to spruce up her face but not too much that her father would totally object. She'd had a figure for a good part of sixth year and as soon as her best Muggle friends had seen her, they knew she needed a new wardrobe. Hermione tried on clothes and let her friends buy her outfits but she still felt self conscious in them. She thanked every god listening that her school uniform was a big, billowing, black robe that could cover her up at school.

Hermione gave a small, almost satisfied, grin to her friends. "I have changed a lot. I can't wait to see their faces at school!"

"Yesterday, Hermione told me she has a crush on someone..." Adrian was so polite as to inform Jessica. Hermione slapped her arm playfully with a shocked expression on her face.

"Ooh...! What does he look like?"

"I am so glad my best friends at school are boys, I would have _never_ told them who I liked," she gave a slightly mean glare to the girl sitting on her right. "And I wouldn't call it a crush, I just think he's...pleasing to the eyes." Jessica and Adrian giggled at this but Hermione didn't. Her expression sobered immediately as she began to talk, her tone serious. "His name is Draco Malfoy and he is the biggest git on the face of the Earth."

Her two best friends stopped giggling and looked at her seriously. "But I thought you..."

"Yes, he _is_ extremely good looking but he always plays tricks on Harry, Ron and me, calls us names, makes fun of our families... He's arrogant, conceited, and thinks he is superior to everyone just because his father had a high position in the government. That only means that he flung money around to bribe people to do what he wanted. Thank god that man is dead now. I hate Malfoy more than any one else at school." From this pronouncement, Hermione had a look of disgust and anger on her face.

"But for right now, I am just going to forget that he's a humongous prat."

Adrian and Jessica nodded with bewildered looks on their faces. "Draco Malfoy has hair that is so blond you would think it was platinum silver. He always has it slicked back, which gives him an almost greasy look. His mouth is almost always positioned in a sneer or a smirk. He was a little bit taller than me, about an inch or two, last I saw him, and he looks pale and thin. He has the most remarkable eyes I have ever seen, though. They're grey, but so light they almost look white. Even though he doesn't show any emotion, even though his eyes are so cold, they send shivers up my spine. It's almost like Malfoy has a secret, or like he's an enigma, and I would do anything to figure him out." Hermione was so absorbed in picturing the boy that she actually shivered despite the warmth of the hot day. "He may not sound sexy, but believe me, he's probably had half the girls at school. He's a sex god, I tell you."

Jessica laughed, bringing Hermione out of her reverie. She stared at her friend and soon all three girls were laughing.

"You're right, he _doesn't _sound sexy! He sounds like a dork!" This got the three friends laughing harder than ever.

The next morning, as Hermione lay sleeping in bed, she heard a _tap, tap, tap_ at her window. She groaned and pulled her comforter over her head, trying to ignore the incessant tapping.

"Hermione, when an owl is at the window, please let it in. Your father and I are trying to sleep," Mrs. Granger said as she walked into Hermione's room, yawning. At first, the owls flying in and out of the house, carrying mail, had frightened and annoyed Hermione's parents. They understood that in the wizarding world, people sent letters using owls as carriers. How so many owls had been tamed to carry mail—in the light of day too—was beyond the Grangers, but it went on nevertheless.

Mrs. Granger walked over to the window and opened it, letting the frustrated owl into the room. The tawny creature landed on Hermione's dresser and ruffled its feathers, waiting for the letter to be removed from its leg. As soon as the owl was freed from its tie, it took off without so much as a snack or a look back. Mrs. Granger laid her daughter's mail on the lump in the bed and shuffled out the same way she came in—yawning.

Again, Hermione groaned and threw the covers off of her. She looked at her clock; 5:30 A.M. Sitting up, she grabbed the letter in her hand and immediately recognized the purple stamp that was the Hogwarts crest. Proudly, she looked at the capital letter H, surrounded by a badger, a snake, a raven, and a lion. These animals symbolized the four houses at the school; Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor—the house she had been sorted into.

Every year, Hogwarts sent a letter to all of the students attending, reminding them that the Hogwarts Express leaves for school at eleven-o-clock on September 1st and also included the list of supplies each student would need for the year. Hermione knew this was one of those letters but she noticed that it was a bit heavier and bulkier. The last time she had gotten a bulky letter, she had received news that she was a Prefect for her fifth and sixth year. She ripped open the letter in anticipation, hoping that what she _thought_ was in the letter _was_. Almost ripping the thick parchment as she unfolded it, she read:

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_It is my pleasure to announce that you have been selected as this year's Head Girl. I am sure that you are as delighted by the news as the entire staff is. _("Yeah right," she thought, thinking of the potions master, Professor Snape; who had despised Hermione, Harry, and Ron since their first year.) _The faculty, not to mention the student body, expects you will fill the position as well as you possibly can. I will leave you to contemplate who the Head Boy could be and have exciting news for the both of you when term starts._

_Hope you have an excellent end of summer,_

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster _

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Attached to this cover letter was the expected supply list. As Hermione squealed in delight at being named Head Girl, a badge fell from the folds of the letter. The badge was gold, although Hermione wasn't sure if it was made of real gold, shield-like in shape, and the size of her palm. Engraved in the smooth surface was:

_Hermione Granger_

_Head Girl_

Lastly, a large scarlet and gold colored ribbon hung down from the bottom of the badge. Hermione screamed as she pinned it to her pajamas.

"Hermione! What's wrong?" Mr. Granger cried out in alarm, running into his daughter's bedroom with Mrs. Granger right behind him.

"I'm Head Girl! I'm Head Girl! Can you believe it?" Hermione's parents beamed at their daughter, too proud of her to care that she had scared the living daylights out of them.

"That's wonderful, sweetie! This calls for a celebration dinner tonight!" Hermione smiled. She hurried out of bed to write a letter to Harry and Ron. Pulling out a clean sheet of parchment from her school trunk, she wrote:

_Harry, Ron! _(She knew Harry would be spending his summer with the Weasleys.)

_I'm Head Girl! Hermione_

She knew it was short, but she would talk to them when they met at Diagon Alley in about two weeks. Using a leather thong, Hermione tied her note to the leg of the owl she had gotten as a gift from Ron while they had been dating in the sixth year. He had said that he wanted her to feel that they could write whenever she needed to, instead of waiting until Ron or Harry wrote first. It was a very generous thing to do as Ron's family was...well...poor and owls could be expensive. She named it Pantalaimon, after a character in her favorite Muggle book. After releasing the owl from her window, she went downstairs to see what was being made for breakfast. Her mother made her favorite foods for her and planned where they would go for their celebration later that night. Hermione couldn't wait to spend this time with her parents. Since starting school at Hogwarts, she spent less time with them even on the holidays. Usually she spent most of her Christmas or summer vacation with the Weasleys or at school.

Just as Hermione was cleaning her plate, Pan flew into the kitchen through the window. Giving the owl a piece of bacon, she read:

_Our Dearest Hermione, _

_Congratulations! We knew you would be Head Girl this year! You definitely deserve it. Do you know who the Head Boy is? Send a reply with a good date to meet in Diagon Alley._

_Harry and Ron_

Hermione reread the letter twice. Harry wasn't Head Boy? She was sure he would have been since Professor Dumbledore hadn't picked him for Prefect in fifth or sixth year. Harry was a fine student (not that Ron wasn't), and Dumbledore seemed to favor him sometimes; this had seemed to lick the envelope and send it too—so to speak—for Hermione. She grabbed a pen since it was closest to her, and replied on a napkin:

_H and R,_

_Are you saying that neither of you are Head Boy? I was sure it would be one of you... I guess we will see on the Hogwarts Express. Does August 29th sound okay to you guys?_

_Hermione_

In the next ten minutes, Hermione finished washing the dishes and Pan was sent back with a reply. August 29th, at eleven-o-clock, she would meet Harry and Ron at the Leaky Cauldron. It seemed like whoever the Head Boy was would remain a mystery for two more weeks...

At about the same time, miles away, Draco Malfoy was receiving his letter from Hogwarts. He read a similar letter to Hermione's without much surprise:

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_It is my pleasure to announce that you have been selected as this year's Head Boy. I am sure that you are as delighted by the news as the entire staff is. The faculty, not to mention the student body, expects you will fill the position as well as you possibly can. I will leave you to contemplate who the Head Girl could be and have exciting news for the both of you when term starts._

_Hope you have an excellent end of summer,_

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster _

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Exciting news? Dumbledore was well known as the greatest wizard that ever lived and the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of, but sometimes Draco doubted his sanity. Sure, he hated the man as much as he hated Harry Potter, but he had to say that Dumbledore was a fraud and an old loon—an over-rated old loon. It was just like him to leave out bits of information just to entertain himself with face-to-face interaction.

As for "contemplating who the Head Girl could be", Draco was almost positive that it was the Mudblood, Granger. She _was _the brightest in the year, as much as he hated to admit it, with himself in second. He hated Granger for being on top. His father had nagged him all the time about how he couldn't be beat by a girl, especially a Mudblood. In most purebloods' eyes, people who had Muggles for parents, or in their lineage at all, were considered _beneath_ people who were known as pureblooded. Lucius Malfoy had been pureblooded, Voldemort's right hand man, and extremely wealthy. This made the Malfoy's the most powerful family in all of Britain—if not Europe. Since Harry Potter had killed Lucius and Voldemort, Draco Malfoy was now the most powerful person in Europe.

So as to being named Head Boy, Draco was not in the least surprised. His family expected no less of him. His _name_ expected no less of him. Now all he could do was count down the days until the term started, and he could see the look on Granger's face when she found out _he_ was Head Boy.

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**(A/N): WHAT DO YOU THINK! I know you probably hate to hear this but I would love to get at least ONE review so that I know I am not comletely worthless! AND I will even answer back! But I need reviews! I'm so excited for the next chapter, and I'M writing this story!**


	2. Reunions

**(A/N): I'm updating! I never knew how hard this could be! To put this fantasy into words I mean. I knw exactly what is going to happen in this story but it is hard to find the time to write, the will to write, or the words to write. Thank you for the reviews! You will never believe how they made my heart leap like mad or how they brightened my day. I dedicate this chapter to **the faded star in the sky**my first reviewer!**

**jewelwhisperer: The diary is introduced in this chap. you will learn more about it as the story progresses though. Don't worry! I have the whole story planned out and know how important the diary is...**

**gyrlfrend: you really scared me there! bet then i was like wait a minute...nobody thinks i'm worthless...(jk!) **

**Thanks to Slayergirl1362, KimJo, revelyn, profet, frolicfeather, and JewelBlossom for the awesome reviews!**

**Disclaimer: Alas...they're still not mine...**

**(EDIT): 3/30/06—I would like to thank Lyndsie for her awesome help with this chapter! If there are any mistakes they are because of my own tinkering after I got the chapter back.

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**Reunions:**

Hermione wore her Head Girl badge everyday, like the excited schoolgirl she was, and beamed as she polished it with her shirt every now and then, so Percy Weasley-like. When her parents looked at her, they didn't see their little Hermy, their daughter who had brought home finger paintings in first grade, anymore. Now, they saw a young woman, _so close_ to leaving school and home, but yet, still that little girl on the inside. It was when she was excited that they saw Hermione's inner child come out of her shell. Which was a good thing. They had worried for years that maybe Hermione spent too much time on her studies. In the end, they knew their daughter _wanted _to do well, for herself if not for her them, and she still had a good social life outside of her duties. So they only worried about her when she was on a little adventure, like the ones she had gone on with Harry and Ron over the years. The little adventures that had nearly gotten her killed.

For Hermione, time passed as fast as molasses oozing from the bark of a maple tree. She hadn't seen Harry or Ron since the end of their last term and couldn't wait to see them again. The date was August 28th as she packed her school trunk for her stay at Diagon Alley, and then eventually, her year at Hogwarts. Each item that wasn't an article of clothing sent Hermione down Memory Lane. She always kept things for sentimental reasons, even if the object was completely worthless.

When she was going out with Viktor Krum in her fourth year, he had given her a miniature, moving model of himself on a broom; much like the one that Ron had bought at the Qudditch World Cup. It was a smaller, cuter version of him with the same duck-footed-ness as the original. She hadn't even seen Viktor Krum for two years but she never liked to throw gifts away, no matter how long she had had it.

When Harry had given her a calligraphy kit for Christmas, she was thrilled to no end. Ron was fascinated by the ink pen that came in the kit, so she had given it to him, knowing that a quill would work just as well. The kit also included a stamp, much like the Hogwarts stamp on the school letters, with an H on it and purple wax (her favorite color). She had never used the kit, because it had looked so fancy, and would rather display it in her book case. Harry understood, not really ever having had beautiful things before. Hermione did get beautiful things, mind you, but the gift had looked too beautiful to just use then throw away.  
In an hour Hermione was completely done packing, except for one book. Walking around her bed to her nightstand, she picked up the handsome leather book, thinking about the memories _it _brought up. The only memories that could fill her head about this book were painful and full of hatred that wasn't just her own. What she held in her arms, and detested as much as she would die without it, was a diary. _Her _diary. There was nothing peculiar about it like Tom Riddle's diary that Harry had..._acquired_ in the second year. She just held a beautiful, scarlet book with her name embossed in gold on the cover and spine, holding all her teenage worries, angers, fears, and excitements since the summer after fifth year. Nevertheless, how she had gotten the diary was nothing she liked to remember and sometimes wished she had a Pensieve to relieve her of her horrible memories of the experience. For now though, she left her diary on her bed in case she needed it. She never knew when she would blow up lately...

The next day, Hermione got a ride from both parents to London. She had shrunk her trunk to fit in her pocket so that when they parked a distance away from the pub, she wouldn't bring attention to herself—though carrying an owl in cage did look kind of suspicious in itself. Before she had shrunk her luggage, her mom had worried that she would get in trouble for doing magic outside of school. Hermione was seventeen and would soon be eighteen in a couple of weeks. Being of age, she was allowed to do magic whenever now. Professor Dumbledore had even begun teaching her how to become an Animagus since the beginning of sixth year. Personally, she hoped to become a cat. Something that could blend in with any environment, but _not_ a rat or a snake or anything associated with..._disgusting-ness_. She had very much liked being older than Harry and Ron and getting her Apparating license before either of them. Plus, she didn't think they were putting any effort into becoming Animagi so she felt a little bit...superior to them, even though she knew she wasn't. She was just proud of her many accomplishments.

Trying to act as if they fit in with the crowd walking past them, all three Grangers entered the Leaky Cauldron, a pub that could only be seen if someone pointed it out to you, otherwise, your eyes wandered right past it. The nearly empty pub was dim and dank, and smelled of Firewhiskey. The landlord, Tom, greeted the three newcomers with a toothless grin.

"Miss Granger? Shall I show you to your room?" the helpful man asked. Hermione nodded as she and her parents followed the stooped figure up a small flight of stairs to a long hallway with doors on both sides. Tom led them to the room at the very end of the hall, room number 78. Hermione smiled at her parents and took this as a good sign; 78 was, coincidentally, her favorite number.

Tom unlocked the door and let the three people in before handing Hermione the key. The fire blazed to life in the fireplace as they walked in.

"Is there anything I can get you Miss Granger? Tea? Crumpets?"

Hermione nodded her head. "Actually, Tom, we haven't quite had lunch yet. Can you bring something up?"

Tom bowed his way out of the room backwards, leaving the Grangers to take in their surroundings.

It really was just a room. On the opposite wall of the door, was a window with a desk underneath. Gently, she put Pantalaimon's cage on the desk and let her owl free. A bed sat against the left wall, which also bore a grand wardrobe. Pan settled here and decided to take a well deserved nap. Opposite that was a bookshelf full of books and the fireplace. Lastly, on the floor lay a purple throw rug and a squishy armchair. Hermione nodded in approval as Tom reentered the room with a cart of food trays.

"For lunch I have prepared grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, Dragon Spleen soup, tea, lemonade, and crumpets. Enjoy."

"Tom!" Hermione called before he left. He turned to face Hermione properly. "Has Harry Potter or Ron Weasley checked in yet?"

Tom shook his head almost sadly, "I'm sorry, Miss. Shall I notify you when they arrive?"

The teenager nodded. Again, Tom bowed himself out of the room, shutting the door as he left. This left the Grangers to feast on their lunch, although no one touched the soup since Mr. Granger could have sworn he saw something look at him from inside the soup bowl. Hermione threw some owl treats onto the top of the wardrobe to satisfy Pan. They talked for awhile until Ron Weasley barged into the room, Harry Potter and Tom right behind him.

"Great, food!" He exclaimed as he noticed the cart, and started to dig in right away, not surprising Hermione at all with his pig-like appetite. "Oh, hey 'Mione. Great to see you..." He said between mouthfuls, not even looking at Hermione.

"Ron, show the girl some love. We haven't seen her in ages." Harry chastised Ron teasingly. "Besides...bloody hell, Hermione! What have you been doing this summer?" Harry gaped at her as he took in her appearance. Hermione blushed at his "subtle" compliment.

"Oh, well...you know...just dabbling around...here and there...trying something new..." She said a bit uncomfortable under Harry's, and now Ron's, stares, but inside she felt very pleased. Her face reddened and no one noticed, or they chose to ignore, her parents' evil glares at the two boys ogling their daughter. To end the awkward silence, Hermione ran to Harry and embraced him, then turned to Ron, who squeezed her until she couldn't breathe.

"Shall I take my leave, now that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are here?" Tom asked Hermione.

"Yes, thank you, Tom." She lightly kissed him on the cheek for all his help. Tom left, smiling his toothless grin.

"Yes dear, now that your..._friends_ are here, we really should be going now," Mr. Granger told Hermione, though both of her parents looked reluctant to leave their daughter in the company of two boys who had finally realized that she was a girl in a girl's body.

"But we won't leave, unless you want us to?" Ms. Granger asked as a sort of question.

"No, no. Mum, I'll be fine. Harry and Ron are here!" This did not seem to cheer either of the adults at all, but they took their leave, albeit unwillingly.

"Really, Hermione, you do look fantastic. If I didn't know you would refuse, I would ask you out again." Ron blushed at this comment, aware that he was showing his vulnerable side.

Hermione laughed. "Where could the rest of the Weasleys be?" she asked in a teasing manner.

"Mum, Dad, and Ginny are settling into their room. We're a little tight on money...and Mum is making Ginny share their room. Harry and I have our own, Fred and George are living in their apartments above their shop, and Bill and Charlie rented their own rooms." Ron blushed as he answered her question. Hermione was well aware that the Weasleys did not have lot of money and noticed how his ears turned red with embarrassment.

"It seems like everyone in my family has money except for Mum, Dad, me and Gin.," he continued mumbling, his ears turning a darker shade.

_At least Mr. and Mrs. Weasley only have two children to worry about now, _Hermione thought slightly guiltily. She didn't have as much money as Draco Malfoy, but she knew that she had more than the Weasleys and would have loved to split it with them, with her parents' approval of course. But the whole lot of red heads were proud and would take no one's money or pity. They had the dignity to make do with what they had. This is why she respected and admired the Weasleys, though she would never tell anyone this; just her diary held this secret.

"Well, Ginny can share a room with me!" Hermione thought up quickly. "Really, I don't mind and it would be nice to have some company."

"Let's go ask her," Harry said, leaving the room. Ron and Hermione followed and all of their spirits soared.

Ginny was in the hallway, muttering to herself, when Harry tapped her on the shoulder. Caught off guard, she turned around to see Harry and Ron. Hermione was somewhere behind them but she couldn't see her.

"Hey, Beautiful," Harry cooed in her ear. Ginny blushed at the scowl on Ron's face.

Hermione saw all of this from her position and exclaimed, "Ginny! I didn't know you and Harry were together!" stepping out from behind her two best friends' tall forms.

Ginny was nodding when she saw Hermione's change. Her mouth fell open in shock. "Hermione! You look gorgeous!" Hermione blushed a deep shade of crimson. That was already three people who had gaped at her like an idiot. She was only wearing jeans, a purple tank top, and purple Converse! Although she did have to say that her outfit showed off the curve of her hips and breasts and a little bit of cleavage. She had gotten her _best friends_ to drool, what would they do if they saw her in one of the skirts Jessica had bought her?

_They might get a little uncomfortable with the tightening of their pants,_ she thought evilly. Her eyes widened in horror as she tried not to look at Harry or Ron's crotch. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she had another thought. _How will Malfoy react?_ Where were these thoughts coming from? How could she possibly have such a...well, a dirty mind? Sure, she thought Malfoy was hot but he didn't see a single thing in her at all. She was the gum on his shoe, the fly in his ear, the, well, the list could go on. The point was, she was considered worse than dirt, and didn't receive so much as a second glance from any Slytherin.

"Hermione...HERMIONE! Earth to Hermione!" Ginny was waving one of her slender hands in front of Hermione's face. Coming out of her daze, she looked at her friends' expectant faces.

"I'm sorry. I'm a little tired. What did you say?"

"Ron told me you offered to let me share your room. I just wanted to make sure it was all right." Hermione nodded, a grin playing on her face. "Then I accept!" her friend hugged her and went to transfer her luggage to Hermione's room.

"Thanks, 'Mione," Ron muttered, not quite catching her eye.

"Oh, Ron, you silly boy!" Hermione swept him into a tight hug she knew he needed. She held on until the boy, no the man, in front of her wrapped his arms tight around her and hugged her back.

She was just thinking about how she would write this day, this moment, in her diary when she remembered...

"OH MY GOD!"

"Hermione! What's wrong?" Harry and Ron asked simultaneously.

Hermione was whimpering as she answered, "Oh no, no, no, no, no, no. I left my diary at home!"

"Oh is that all?" Ron asked, thinking Hermione was overreacting. Harry studied his best friend, trying to figure out why she was so upset.

"What do you mean 'is that all'?" She had grabbed the collar of Ron's shirt and was shaking him. He was afraid that she had gone hysterical. "You have no idea what this means! You have no idea what trouble I could get in!" She shook him a final time and let go, slumping her body against the nearest stone wall and closing her eyes. She was breathing deeply like she was counting to ten, then opened her eyes.

"I'm going to owl, Mum to send it as soon as she can. At least _she _knows how important it is. " Hermione wasn't hysterical anymore but she still sounded like she wanted to cry. She sprinted down the hall back to her room, still breathing deeply.

Harry gave Ron a worried look.

"Don't worry, mate. She'll be all right. And when she thinks we need to know what's going on, she'll tell us. You know how she is." Harry wasn't as sure about that as Ron. He sent a worried glance down the hall in the direction Hermione had just gone, hoping that in time, she _would_ tell them what was going on.

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**A/N): Hmmmmm...What was wrong with Hermione? Only I know... I had wanted to write more, but this is the right place to stop, I think. Plus, it was Sunday when I wrote this, meaning I had all my homework I had "saved for later", and had to clean my room. I have to say, eighth grade really sucks. Anyways, so go review! I will try to update again before the beginning of next week. And I'm even thinking of starting a Snape/Hermione romance...it's still forming in my head, though. Oh, this is so much fun!**


	3. The Diary

**(A/N): I know I said I would update before the start of this week, but this was a hard chapter to write. Plus, my parents think I spend WAAAAY too much time on the computer so I expect that soon I am going to be on the comp less an less. I would like to thank,**gyrlfrend,JewelBlossom, and the faded star in the sky, **the only three people who reviewed the second chapter! Thanks you guys! If you thought Hermione's reaction to her forgotten diary was strange in the last chapter, wait until you read this! This is the longest chapter, though not by much. I wish I could write humongo chapters like the author's to some of my favorite fics do. I'm trying!**

**Disclaimer: As much as I hate to say it, Harry Potter and Co. are not mine. I'm just using J.K's world for other's and my own demented pleasures...**

**(EDIT): 4/9/06—I would like to thank Lyndsie for her awesome help with this chapter! If there are any mistakes they are because of my own tinkering after I got the chapter back.

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**The Diary:**

Rushing back to her room, Hermione practiced some deep breathing exercises that she had learned a year ago trying to keep from panicking. It took all of her strength not to burst into tears. "How could you possibly leave it at home?" she asked herself for the hundredth time, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." She unlocked the door to room number 78, stumbling over her own feet. She un-shrunk her trunk and decided to search through it to make sure that she hadn't packed the book by mistake. She never went _anywhere _without her diary, its presence always near as she kept it shrunk in her pants pocket. Throwing her possessions all over the room to check the bottom of the trunk, she sighed. Her breath came out long and slow, trying to push her panic into the back of her mind. Ever since the summer after fifth year, she had become almost a master at pushing away her emotions; no matter what they were.

Looking around at all of her belongings, tossed all around the room, she began the hunt for her parchment, ink, and quill. She had salvaged her writing materials from the heap, but her quill had snapped in two from being crushed by the weight of other items. Muttering a quick _Reparo_ spell, Hermione wrote her letter, urgency in her every movement, not to mention the tone of the note.

_MUM!_

_MY DIARY IS ON MY BED! PLEASE SEND RIGHT AWAY!_

Hermione hadn't even bothered to sign the letter. Who else would owl her mother, asking for a diary, and calling her 'mum'? Nobody, she hoped. She sent Pan off with the promise of a sack of owl treats for a reward. The frantic girl watched the bird fly into the horizon until she couldn't see it anymore. As she waited, Hermione paced up and down, oblivious to stepping on her clothes and school supplies. Fear had engulfed her as she tried not to think about the consequences of not having her diary. Ironically, all of the worrying she was doing was going to make her have a reaction, and without the diary, she couldn't stop it from happening (that she knew of, anyway). Unfortunately, her diary was currently sitting on top of her neatly made bed in a room that was too young for the 17 year old girl. She hadn't bothered changing her room to fit her age because she only spent summer vacation there. And even when she was home for summer break, she rarely spent time in her room, except to sleep.

Ten minutes had passed when her owl came back. Relief suddenly surged out of Hermione's entire body—from the sigh of relief, to her heart relaxing in happiness. If someone had walked into the room at that moment, they would have seen a girl _glowing_ with relief. She smiled a smile that was infectious. Not only would that person be smiling also, they would wonder if the girl in the center of the room was getting _married_ or something. Hermione hadn't noticed her own strange behavior; she was more preoccupied with thoughts of her diary.

Pantalaimon glided gracefully into the room, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. Hermione watched with bated breath as the owl dropped the package onto the bed and flew back up onto the wardrobe. She threw a handful of owl treats to the bird and watched as she ate them. If owls could show expressions, this one would look pleased with herself beyond belief. Now, Hermione no longer feared her fate. Her diary was safe.

She unwrapped the diary and clutched it to her chest with a grip that could suffocate. The gold embossing on the leather cover shimmered in the afternoon light that shone into the room; dust particles floated lazily, basking in the glowing rays. Suddenly, the day seemed so much brighter, so much livelier. Hermione grabbed her quill and took the two steps to the desk underneath the window. Oblivious to the brightness of the sun in her face, Hermione opened the diary, skipping past her previous entries. A blank sheet in the book beckoned to her. _Write something...anything, _she found a voice whispering in her ear. She dipped her quill and began to write. The events and emotions of the day flowed from her brain, through the nerves in her arm, ran through the quill and spilled onto the page in waves of words. Any worries, fears, anxieties she might have had were gone. She had taken her drug, now she rode down on the high.

* * *

Harry and Ron had watched Hermione hurry off to her room, and were alarmed at the amount of anxiety she showed on her face. What was going on with their best friend? They both had noticed how Hermione had started their sixth year with a diary under her arm, writing in it with fervor whenever she was angry. As the year went on, Hermione started writing in that diary more and more, until every free second she had was spent with her nose in that little blank book. Whenever she ran out of pages, she would expand the book to include more pages to write in. Besides all of this, whenever anyone asked her what she wrote about, she would change the subject or play dumb ("Diary? What diary?"). Every single person in Gryffindor knew to stay away from her when she was angry. There was no escaping that girl's wrath when she found a target. Her diary seemed to release her steam.

Now, Harry wondered if there was something more to the diary then Hermione just being really emotional all the time. He had never seen her act like this before, and over something seemingly so unimportant! Harry wasn't at all moved by Ron's prediction. Ron had always been ignorant when it came to the feelings of people. Yes, Harry believed there was something fishy going on and he wanted to find out what, even if he had to investigate by himself. That was his job, to solve all the mysteries. It would be the first time he would be solving a puzzle related to his best friend. He felt a little guilty as he reached his conclusion; he was almost positive that he would be invading Hermione's privacy and he flinched at the thought of her wrath.

Ron knew something was up with Hermione, too. He had never been able to figure her out, even when they were dating. Something had happened the summer before sixth year that had changed her. She wasn't ever _truly_ happy, or at least she never showed it. She had ceased to laugh and when she was angry, her whole body seemed to burn with flaming rage. Nobody liked to be around her anymore, but Harry and Ron stayed true to Hermione. She needed them for whatever reason it was. Ron was just bursting to ask her what was going on, not to mention a little angry that she was keeping secrets, but he was comfortable waiting for his friend to reveal her secrets—even if he did itch with curiosity.

"Can anyone tell me why Ginny is packing? Where could she possibly be going?" Mrs. Weasley's motherly form appeared in the middle of the hallway looking confused, if not annoyed.

"Hermione offered her to let her stay with her in her room, Mrs. Weasley," Harry offered a reply.

"Oh, is Hermione here? Where is the dear girl? I haven't seen her in so long!"

"Um...she had a quick errand to run, Mum." Ron didn't think his mother needed to know exactly what was going on with Hermione. "She'll be back in a minute."

"Well, in that case, let's —" At that moment, Hermione came out of her room and walked towards her friends with a bounce in her step that she definitely didn't have half an hour ago.

"Mrs. Weasley! _Beautiful_ weather we're having, isn't it?"

Molly Weasley looked confused for a moment. She had just come from her room where she had been mentioning to Arthur how horrible the weather looked. Hermione spoke before the older woman could open her mouth and ask for clarification.

"Never mind. It's wonderful to see you!" She threw her arms around the plump woman she liked to consider her second mother, and any thoughts of the girl's strangeness left Molly's mind.

"It's good to see you too. And look at you! You look amazing!" Hermione blushed for what had seemed like the hundredth time in an hour. Molly saw her discomfort and changed the subject. "Did you have a good summer? We missed you at the Burrow."

She nodded. "An excellent summer, thank you. I would have liked to be at the Burrow, also, but I felt my last summer at home should be spent with my family. Where is everyone else? I haven't seen them in ages!"

Ginny backed out of the doorway right behind her, dragging what looked like a very heavy trunk. "We were all about to go downstairs and get breakfast. Hungry?" Hermione laughed at the look on her friend's face and gave her a hand by levitating the trunk.

"I already ate. But I would love to join you all and have a chat, if that's alright?" Hermione looked at Harry, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley for an objection. All four people standing in the hall started talking, assuring her that her company would be very enjoyable. "I'll just take Ginny's trunk to my room and meet you downstairs." Everyone filed out, down the staircase leading to the dining parlor. Ginny called back into her parents' room for her dad to hurry up.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Arthur Weasley grumbled as he left his room, defeated. "Ah! Hermione! Don't you look extravagant! Will you be joining us this afternoon?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Weasley. I'm just taking Ginny's trunk to my room," she said with a little shake of her wand hand--indicating the levitating trunk andtrying to control her tingeing face from Mr. Weasley's praise.

"Oh yes, and when you come down, we must talk about the concept of a drive-in!—Wait! Hold on Ginny! I'm trying to have a convers—" but Ginny was pushing her easily excitable father down the stairs impatiently.

Ginny gave Hermione an exasperated look before saying, "Can't wait until I'm of age, like you, Hermione. Then I won't have to worry about other people handling my affairs." She took a quick glance at her trunk. "Thank you for letting me stay with you. I appreciate it."

Hermione gave a heartwarming smile full of happy memories and friendship. "Really, it's nothing. That's what friends are for, right?"

Ginny nodded and gave her friend a small smile in return. "See you down stairs." Then she continued to the dining parlor to meet with the rest of her family.

Hermione went back to her room, Ginny's trunk floating six inches off of the ground, trailing behind her. She was relieved that the other girl hadn't insisted on taking her luggage to her room herself. Before Ginny could come in, Hermione had to pick up the mess she had made in the frenzy of her diary. Upon the entrance of the room, she muttered a spell that neatly packed all of her belongings back into her trunk, and then settled the other one at the foot of a bed she conjured. The room was now slightly cramped, but it would do for the next two days. Locking the door behind her, she made her way down to the parlor to join the others, patting the pocket of her jeans to make sure her shrunken diary was still there.

* * *

Harry noticed Hermione's improved mood, and had to wonder what could have possibly caused it. He had no doubt that she had gotten her diary back, but could that little incident really elevate his best friend's mood so much? One minute she had been extremely anxious, then less than an hour later she came back chipper and...well, almost _perky_. If Hermione had been anyone else, Harry would say she was on drugs.

_NO... _This thought then dawned on him, and he was unsure if he had hit the jackpot or...

_...or if I am being completely stupid. Hermione does NOT do drugs._ He told himself. _Absolutely not. _But he didn't have himself entirely convinced.

He was just about to suggest this idea to Ron, who was sitting beside him at the table seating six, when, speak of the devil, Hermione entered the room, skipping the last step of the stairs. She took a seat on the other side of Harry and in front of Mr. Weasley, who looked ready to start a serious interrogation.

"Hermione, can I talk to you?" Harry asked his friend uncertainly. He never knew when she would blow up at him. Now he knew what everyone else had to go through in his fifth year when he would scream at anyone for no reason., and he definitely didn't like the experience when it was reciprocated.

"What is it, Harry? You know you can ask me anything." _Yeah right..._ Harry thought to himself.

"I—I just wanted to know what was going on with you and this diary, is all," he whispered so that no one except he and she would hear, and not meeting her eyes.

"My diary? What do you mean? There's nothing going on with my diary." Harry wasn't sure if she was trying to dodge the subject or if she was simply unaware of her own behavior. He wouldn't be able to believe it if she really were so ignorant.

"Yes, Hermione, your diary. Take today for example: you nearly had a nervous breakdown because you didn't have it, and now that it's been returned, you have been acting too cheerful to be possible. What's wrong with you? What's with the intense mood swings?" As soon as the words had left his mouth, Harry knew that he had gone too far.

"_There is nothing going on, Harry. My diary is my business, so leave—the hell—alone!" _He could see that she was seethingin anger; he could hear it in her voice, even if she uttered the words in barely a whisper. The best thing to do at the moment would be to back off and try not to get her any more enraged.

"Sorry, Hermione. Forget I even asked." Harry looked dejected as he said it, but inside he was becoming frustrated, and quite as angry as the stubborn girl. All he wanted to do was find out what was wrong with his best friend, damn it! He would just have to figure out what was going on without Hermione.

She had quickly gotten over her former irritation and started talking animatedly with Mr. Weasley. Ron shot him furtive glances every once in awhile. Harry shook his head slowly. _Later,_ he mouthed. Even though he was still worried about the previous interaction between Harry and Hermione, Ron nodded as if he understood, or at least, would wait for an explanation. Besides the obvious concern of one of his best friends, Harry Potter felt completely alone with his investigation.

* * *

**(A/N): Review, review, review! I wasn't particularly happy with this chapter so tell me what YOU think! That way I will know how much I underestimate myself (or not). I really LOVED that paragraph when Hermione sits down and starts writing in her diary. That was probably the most descriptive thing I have ever written in my life. No kidding! Can't wait for the reviews! I don't know when I will be able to update next so if you just put me on Author Alert (hinthint) then you will get an email when I update. Next chapter, Hermione and Co. visit Diagon Alley! And one last thing, from this chapter, PLEASE don't flame me because you think Hermione is out of character! I have wondered this at times, wondered if she has overreacted, but I know what is going to happen! Don't hate her (or me!) because of how emotional she is, please? Everything will be revealed in the future!**


	4. Diagon Alley

**(A/N): Fourth chapter, 25 reviews, and over 8 thousand words! What more could an author ask for? Okay, besides more reviews, more words and more chapters? Got to keep the readers coming back for more! Turns out that now I will only be able to have an hour and a half to spend on the computer per day (except weekends), in which I will have to share this time with anyone else who wants on and my homework. But now, I hope to be writing at school during lunch too. Okay I would like to say...to these people...:**

**Stargirl1066lkl: Hmmm... we shall see, all in good time... Draco will be in this chap more but only a little bit. Don't worry, once school starts, we will see how Draco thinks more.**

**FaErIexFaItH: I'm glad you like the story but if you read the author's notes on chapter three, you will see that Hermione's eccentric behavior will be explained in the future...**

**Chayia: I am glad you are enjoying the story! If you would ever believe it, I actually started out this story as a fantasy to help me go to sleep at night (sounds lame don't it?), and I would use pieces of other people's fics to make me happy. Then, I started to change it to make it better and now, it is nothing like the other stories I've read, so don't think I plagiarized, because I swear I didn't!**

**TaKeFlIgHtDrAcOLuVr: Yes, Malfoy parts coming soon...!**

**Shawney: Well, to answer your question, without the diary by her side, Hermione will die, and I was going to kill her in this chap... JUST KIDDING! I am not going to say what is important about the diary; that would just ruin the fun of the story. And to tell you the truth, I haven't got any part of the story written except the first four chapters. Everything is in my head...safely contained away from the prying eyes of plagiarists...**

**Sandra: I am so happy that you love my story!**

**Potc-and-hpfan: updating. now.**

**LYDRU: I love that part of OotP where Fred and George change their names around like that! So funny! You could never know how happy this review made me!**

**(A/N): I would also like to thank **marauderbabe289, sugarhigh4ever8, cheesedogtoda-core, **and **JewelBlossom **for your reviews also. I love you guys!**

**Disclaimer: If ever J.K wants to sell her characters to someone, I will buy them with what money I have in less than a heart beat. In fact, I might have to claw anyone else who wants to buy HP and Co.'s eyes out, but until then...they're not mine...Unfortunately.

* * *

**

**Diagon Alley:**

Feeling exceptionally full from the scrumptious lunch, the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry filed out of the dining parlor to fetch their coin purses, whether they be light, as in most of the Weasleys' case, or heavy. They gathered in the back of the Leaky Cauldron in a tight, excited bunch. Mr. Weasley tapped the respective sections of the back wall, waiting for the bricks to rearrange themselves into an entryway leading to Diagon Alley. The sun warmed the tops of all of their heads, giving Hermione the impression that the Weasleys' flaming red hair could catch fire at any second.

_Looks like the rain stopped._

Finally, the portal completed itself and everyone on the side of the pub could see the bustling community called Diagon Alley. Wizards of every age and appearance crowded down the street, peering in shop windows, carrying brown paper wrapped packages, or sitting in an empty chair or bench eating Florean Fortescue's famous ice cream. The ten people—who now included Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George, the eldest Weasley brothers—passed through the back wall of the Leaky Cauldron, joining their fellow magical people. Harry and Hermione felt as if they were finally home after a long summer and were joyful that they were back in the wizarding world.

"Alright, we will all go—RON! Are you listening?—we will all go our separate ways and meet at Flourish and Blotts in two hours. I want you four to purchase all of your supplies for school, except for your books," Mrs. Weasley was in her element as she instructed the scholarly teenagers in front of her, being the mother she knew she wouldn't be for long. In one year, Ron would leave school and the only child she would have left would be Ginny, but after she graduated from Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have any kids to take care of anymore. She would always miss her children's cheeky remarks and sheepish looks, no matter how much it hurt to receive them at the time she got them. The only thing she had ever been good at, or so _she_ had thought, was being a mother.

Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny nodded as though the orders had been heard and understood. Really, only Hermione was paying any attention; the others were too busy peering into the nearby store front windows showing what the shop owners had to offer.

"Uh-huh."

"Sure, Mum."

"Gotcha, Mrs. Weasley."

"Meet at Flourish and Blotts in two hours."

Mrs. Weasley gave Ron, Ginny, and Harry a sharp look, which was not received by the inattentive teens. Rolling her eyes, she showered Hermione in her most motherly look. "Watch over them for me. Merlin only knows if they ever listen to anyone." Hermione nodded in understanding, walked to her two friends, and dragged them by the sleeves of their jackets towards the nearest shop. Ginny found some of her sixth year friends and had left with them.

"Don't forget, Flourish and Blotts, two hours!" Hermione called to her. The youngest Weasley waved, without as much as a glance back.

"Can you let go of us now, Hermione?" Ron growled, Hermione's grip on her friends' winter-wear still tight.

"Oh, right."

It didn't even take an hour for the three to complete their shopping. All they had left to buy were the school books needed for their last year of Hogwarts. They had seen and talked to some of their fellow Gryffindors while restocking their potions kit, and had also had the misfortune of seeing Draco Malfoy, though he hadn't seen them. Their arms loaded down with packages, Hermione pointed out a store with difficulty.

"I don't remember that shop from last year. Let's go see what's for sale." She grabbed Harry's sleeve again and pulled him inside, Ron groaned and followed.

Hermione had pulled them into a writing material shop called Fixation. _How appropriate..._ Harry thought. How could Hermione _not_ be drawn to this shop? It sold blank books, quills, ink, and parchment, among other things, and with Hermione's..._obsession_ to her diary, they would have stopped at this store before school started anyway. _Better sooner, _he thought.

As soon as they had stepped through the door, Hermione had a sense of peace about her. She loved the sight of all of the different colored inkwells, quills, and the variety of notebooks to choose from. Wonderment filled her entire body as she looked at one shelf housing magically enhanced ink. Labels reading _Toxic Green, Flaming Red, Electric Yellow, _and_ Freeze-Me Blue,_ covered several of the small, glass ink bottles. Underneath these titles, every label on this shelf read, _Warning! Ink may contain poisonous potion-like materials. May be fatal if consumed. So don't drink it if you know what's good for you! _The un-witty statement brought a small smile to her face, as she lifted an inkwell to get a better look.

Putting the bottle back with indifference, she ambled over to another aisle where she found writing quills. She fingered a particular quill—one that she knew all to well—that was an acid green color, much like the one Daily Prophet reporter, Rita Skeeter became famous for using; the Quick Quotes Quill. Looking at the other quills with distaste, and knowing that most of the selection was used by Hogwarts students for cheating, she quickly made her way towards another shelf of inks, whose different colors appealed to her. Not even aware whether Harry and Ron were still in the store, she found two containers of non-magical, violet ink, and two containers of ink that changed colors as she wrote.

Seeing that Harry and Ron stood at the counter, the raven haired boy purchasing two eagle owl quills and Ron looking uneasily at the writing utensils, Hermione went back to roaming the store, figuring that Harry had insisted on buying Ron a new quill, and found she was right when Ron spoke.

"You really don't have to, you know. I can get one later..." but seeing the determined expression on Harry's face, he gave up the fight he knew he wouldn't win. "I _will_ pay you back," he mumbled under his breath.

"Yeah, didn't you say that about the Omnioculars?" Harry asked, referring to a pair of magical binoculars he had bought for Ron and Hermione during the Quidditch World Cup. Ron opened his mouth to argue but saw Harry's teasing smile there and pouted at the cash register.

"Can't even afford a _quill_, Weasel? What do you normally write with, a stick?" drawled a voice from the entrance of the store. Harry and Ron whirled around to face Draco Malfoy, a smirk situated on his face. Hermione bristled at the sound of the silky voice, deciding that she would let Harry and Ron deal with the spoiled seventeen-year-old. There was no way Hermione would have left her friends to manage on their own in normal circumstances, but ever since the summer before sixth year, she had tried to keep out of situations that stressed her out, and Malfoy was the number one stressor in her life.

"Malfoy," Harry acknowledged the blond boy and then went back to handing the storeowner fourteen sickles. The shopkeeper was wary of the tension in the room between The Boy Who Lived and the former Lucious Malfoy's son, his eyes darting between the three boys in his shop.

"Get out," Ron's temper was flaring quickly, his face and ears turning red at the remark Malfoy had made about his lack of money.

"I mean, you don't even have _seven sickles_ for a quill? I think even the poorest man in the world has at least that much money. Hmmm...that _must_ be you then," he couldn't help but add, his infamous smirk never faltering.

Hermione peeked over the side of a shelf to see this confrontation. Malfoy wasn't in her line of sight but she could see Ron struggling against Harry's hold, fury shown by the deep crimson color of his face. She should have been there to hold him back too, but she was too afraid of any rising emotions; on her part.

"Malfoy, we just want to get out of the store alive," Harry said through clenched teeth, loosening his hold on Ron a bit.

"That's more than you can say for your parents, huh Potter? _They_ didn't live long enough to see what—" but at this pronouncement, Harry had let go of Ron and both boys had attacked the smirking blond. Malfoy shrieked in terror at the two raging boys. Fists flew, hitting every part of Malfoy's body.

"Hey! No fighting in here! Take it outside!" the storeowner screamed. He knew there would be trouble as soon as the Malfoy kid had entered the store. Now he just wanted them out before any of the inkwells were damaged, even though he was sure the Malfoys had plenty of money to pay for the entire store and its contents.

As these events took place, Hermione sat on the floor in the back of the store, her eyes closed, her legs drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. At every sound of the pounce, she jumped in alarm and in revulsion. She was disappointed and angry at herself for her cowardice, and should have been at the front of the store telling her best friends to ignore the git's insults. That was her duty as a best friend. She opened her eyes and looked at the shiny Head Girl badge pinned to her sweater. If it wasn't her duty as a best friend to prevent fights, it was her duty as Head Girl. Disgusted at herself, Hermione tore the pin off and stuffed it in her pants pocket, where it couldn't be seen. Without looking at the badge, her guilty conscience started to fade. Noticing that she had created a hole in her clothing, she fixed it with a _Reparo_ spell.

_You made Head Girl? Excellent...I'm so proud of you, Dear...Knew you would be, of course...What are you, a Percy...? _The compliments and congratulations she had received earlier at lunch floated around her brain, the guilty feeling starting anew. School hadn't started yet and she wasn't doing the right thing. This whole store could have been destroyed and she would have sat where she was, cowering from her own emotions. Where was her self confidence; her own principles and values? If she couldn't handle a fight between three people—who were worst enemies—_outside_ of school, how did she know she could handle insignificant squabbles once school started, when it became her responsibility to put a stop to them? She felt worthless and useless.

_I'm shit,_ she thought, _nothing...I don't deserve this badge..._

She stood up from her ball and took the items she had picked out to the counter to pay for them. Maybe the fight had continued outside since it was no longer taking place indoors. Just as she was handing over the four galleons for the ink, Harry and Ron limped back in, still looking angry and breathing heavily.

"Where were you, Hermione? We know you heard everything, so why didn't you come stop any of it?" Ron shouted at her, his face coloring all over again.

Cringing at his loud words, Hermione mumbled, looking at her purchases, "Don't know what you're talking about. Didn't hear anything..."

"That's _bullshit,_ and you know it." Startled, Hermione looked at Ron and then gave a pleading look to Harry. No dice; he glared at her, a bit of blood running from the corner of his mouth. She was aware of the shopkeeper's presence and slowly inched towards the door, in hope of taking the interrogation outside, but her two best friends blocked her passage.

"You didn't need me, Ron. You two were fine on your own," the words flowed from her mouth before she analyzed them properly, so she expected Ron's next words.

"We didn't need you? We didn't _need_ you? HERMIONE, YOU'RE THE PEACEKEEPER! Normally, you try to _prevent us from fighting! _REMEMBER?"

Now, she started to become angry. "WHY IS IT THAT YOU EXPECT _ME_ TO STOP _YOUR_ STUPID FIGHTS? CAN'T EITHER OF YOU DO ANYTHING FOR YOURSELVES? IS IT NOT ENOUGH THAT WITHOUT ME AT SCHOOL, YOU WOULD FAIL ALL OF YOUR EXAMS AND HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENTS?" She wasn't angry any more; she was _livid_. A few minutes ago, fear flowed through her blood, but now, all she felt was pure rage. Looking at her, Harry and Ron knew it too; they could see the fire in her eyes, and the vein throb on her neck.

Without another word, Hermione took her paper wrapped inks and left the store. She had to get to the nearest bathroom and the closest one that she knew of was at the Leaky Cauldron. She knocked confused shoppers out of her way as she ran down the street. Flying back through the portal to Muggle London, she raced into the Leaky Cauldron. Ignoring Tom's curious look, and his offer of tea, she headed straight for the bathroom; locking herself into one of the stalls before lifting the toilet seat and throwing up the contents of her stomach. Wiping the blood from her mouth with the sleeve of her navy blue sweatshirt, making a dark, smeared stain, she sank to the floor, her head resting on the door to the stall, and began to cry.

* * *

Harry and Ron had no idea where Hermione may have gone. Ron was starting to feel guilty for snapping at her but at the same time, both boys were angry at the truth she had told. If it hadn't been for her, both of them would have most likely failed their classes, or at least, they would have done worse than they did currently. Hermione helped everyone who needed it, even if she risked getting into trouble. What about all of those times she had helped Neville Longbottom during Potions class? It was wrong of Harry and Ron to expect her to stop their fight but she was _always_ there telling them to ignore Malfoy. They hadn't really noticed that presence until she was gone.

It turned out that the fight had not continued once the boys stepped outside. Malfoy, knowing that he was beaten and humiliated, had stalked off before either boy could do anything else. His last words to Harry and Ron had been, "You'll regret this." But they doubted it. Harry had grown since his fifth year, becoming a bit taller; his masculine form filling out. Quidditch training had defined his muscles, giving him more strength and endurance. Single handedly, Harry would have been able to grind Malfoy to a pulp. Ron on the other hand, was still tall—taller than Harry and Malfoy—and lanky. Even though he had been playing with the Gryffindor Quidditch team since fifth year, his body still hadn't grown into that of a man. Malfoy had gotten taller too, but he was still pale and didn't look that strong. He hadn't put up much of a fight, it seemed. His fists flew just as much as Harry's and Ron's but the other two boys had been quick to dodge. In the end, Malfoy had walked off, his smirk still plastered to his face, despite the black eye and bruise forming on his cheek.

"One day, I'm just going to wipe that smirk right off his face..." Ron said heatedly. "Guess we should go find Hermione." Harry nodded in agreement.

The people walking around them looked at Harry and Ron funny. Some stared at Harry in disbelief, but so many people had done that since Harry found out he was a wizard that he learned to ignore it, even if it was annoying having people staring at his forehead, looking for his scar.

"Maybe she went to Flourish and Blotts," Harry suggested.

"No, she ran that way," Ron pointed to his right, "and Flourish and Blotts is in the other direction." They looked at both ends of the street, hoping to see a bushy brown head in the crowd. "We can't even recognize her hair anymore since she changed it!" he added exasperatedly.

"I bet she went to write in her diary," Harry muttered to himself, his hand rubbing his chin like one of those mystery sleuths in black and white movies.

Ron looked at him with dawning apprehension. "Yeah, she _always _writes in that thing, especially when she's mad."

"I wouldn't say she was _mad_ so much as _pissed._"

"Maybe even madder than pissed."

"Definitely madder than pissed."

"So where would she go to write?"

"Somewhere she wouldn't be disturbed."

"Her room!" They exclaimed in unison.

The two boys took off running in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, entering the pub's back door at the same time. Racing upstairs, they ran to the end of the hall and pounded on the door to room number 78.

"Hermione are you in there?"

"Come one, it's us. We wanted to apologize!" Ron looked at Harry with his eyebrow quirked.

"_Apologize?" _he whispered.

"If it will get her to come out," Harry whispered back.

After pounding on the door for five minutes, Harry pulled out his wand and muttered _Alohamora. _Slowly opening the now unlocked door, so as not to alarm Hermione, he poked his head in.

"Hermione?"  
"Is she in there?"

Harry swung the door open all the way, giving Ron a clear view of the empty room. "Not here," he grumbled.He took in the sight of the two beds, two trunks, desk, wardrobe and owl, wondering where Hermione could be.

"Let's go ask Tom if he's seen her."

"Great idea, Ron!" Harry looked at his friend as if he were a genius and started to run back down the hall, leaving Ron looking bewildered.

"It was, wasn't it?" he said to himself, a pleased look on his face, before following in Harry's wake.

* * *

**(A/N): Okay, review time! I know all of you are reading this story for the Draco parts, and I know this doesn't seem like a romance, but school hasn't started yet, and I will say this again, all in good time. I know you are all going to have a lot of questions and I know you hate that I left you hanging there, but how else would I get readers to come back? No, jk! I thought this was a good place to stop. AND this is the longest chapter yet! Even if you take out the author's notes, it is a little over five pages typed on Word! So get to reviewing! It's okay to ask me questions, I just can't guarantee that they can be answered. Constructive criticism is welcome, as long as it is CONSTRUCTIVE and doesn't criticize the plot. If you don't like it, don't read it. Simple as that. Anyway, I will leave you to do what readers do... read and review!**


	5. Unwelcome All Around

**(A/N): Wow, it's been a LONG time hasn't it? I've realized that the more reviews I get, the more I want to write in a shorter amount of time. I'm not kidding and I'm not just saying that! I used to think authors just wrote that to get people to review but it's true! My chapters just keep getting longer, isn't it wonderful? This one, withough Author's notes, is seven pages typed on Word! Any way, thanks to these reviewers:**

**JewelBlossom: Lot's of Draco in this chap. Well, more than in the other chapters anyway. **

**Chayia: You really think my work is wonderful? This one girl at school keeps telling me that I'm a writer and that's why what I write is so good (even if I don't think so! (; )**

**(A/N): And thanks to **FaErIexFaItH **too for your review. It means a lot to me when you take that time.**

**Disclaimer: How many times do I have to say it before it gets through to you? One more? You're sure? Okay then, Harry Potter and Co. are not mine but I swear on my cat's life that the plot belongs to me and me alone!**

* * *

**Unwelcome All Around:**

Harry jumped the last five steps down the stairs to the bar in his haste to find Tom, the Leaky Cauldron's inn keeper, Ron right behind him. They stopped at the counter catching their breath; Tom slid a glass of Firewhiskey down the length of the bar to the pudgy hand of a wizard sitting in the bar stool next to Harry. As he glanced in their direction, Tom waved to the raven haired and redheaded boy.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley! Anything I can get for you, Sirs?" he called down the bar.

"Yeah, I'll try a Firewhiskey—" Ron started to say but received a slap on the back of the head from Harry.

"OW!"

Harry walked around the customers seated at the bar to be able to converse with the bartender face-to-face.

"We were just wondering if there was a chance that you had seen Hermione recently...?" Harry leaned into the bar and asked in an unnecessary whisper.

"Yes, Sir, she just ran to the ladies' bathroom...looked mighty distressed, she did. By the way those women came running out of the bathroom, I would say she's in a right state, she is." Tom said all of this while nodding his head with a grim face, as if troubling Hermione was a sin in itself.

Sitting at the bar two stools down, a woman wearing tattered hot pink robes, spoke. Her grimy short blonde hair stood out on end in frizzy-ness, giving the woman a crazed look. The look in her eyes was glazed and her words were slurred as she spoke. "A right state? That girl's in there making a horrible racket—and the fact that the stone echoes in there doesn't help any—bawling like a dying jobberknoll, I _swear_ she's a banshee, every woman in the loo left as soon as she entered 'cause she'd started wailing. Are either of you related to her? 'cause I haven't seen her face but she seems really upset about _something_ and if you're related to her maybe you can get her to shut-up so that I can go pee, 'cause I really gotta go." It was obvious that the woman had had one Ogden's Firewhiskey too many and was now thoroughly inebriated. This fact was made especially plain to see when she passed out, her head hitting the bar in front of her with a heavy _thud_;the shot glass she had been holding falling out of her hand and crashing to the floor, bursting into tiny shards of glass.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, worried that if the woman hadn't been exaggerating in her drunken state, then Hermione had been really distressed from their argument. In the whole six years that they had known her, Harry and Ron had only seen her cry twice; once in third year and once in sixth year. That she was crying over this fight, a fight that they could have easily overcome, showed how upset she really was, and they were afraid their friendship would not survive this obstacle. Their friendship meant more to them than any help gotten from Hermione with their homework. They stood up for each other through thick and thin and hoped that it wasn't too late to save their lasting camaraderie. Whatever would they do without their friend—yes, their friend, not tutor?

"Uh...right, then..." Harry gave the woman another uncertain look before nodding to Tom and weaved his way between customers and tables to the bathrooms. Ron did the same, stopping in front of the woman's bathroom, doing a double-take at the door.

"We're not going _in _there, are we?" he asked not even trying to hide the bewildered expression on his face.

"That smashed woman said there was no one in there, so it's just Hermione, Ron," Harry replied, a little bit of impatience tinting his voice. "We have to see what's wrong. She's our friend, so if you would rather sacrifice our friendship because she happens to be inside a woman's bathroom, then I will leave you to it," he added before pushing the door open and stepping in.

Ron sighed, raised his eyes to the heavens and moaned, "_We most certainly are... men in a woman's bathroom...what next? A Hippogriff without wings, no doubt._" He pulled up his pants and plastered a dignified expression on his face; then he pushed the door open, closed his eyes and called, "If there are any girls in there, Ron Weasley is coming in!"

* * *

Hermione had thrown up three times in all. The tears had dried on her face a long time ago but her eyes were still red and puffy, her nose still a bit runny; the taste of blood, though the substance had been completely cleaned out, still lingered in her mouth and on her breath. Every once in a while she would wipe her face with the sleeve of her sweater, even if there was nothing to wipe off. Because of this, the apples of her cheeks were slightly pink and sore from being scrubbed raw. The blood she had wiped off of her mouth the first time she threw up was still present on her sleeve, so now she had a smear of this blood on the bridge of her nose after wiping her face. She hated to cry; it was such a bother and quite a mess for something so natural and insignificant. Tears flooded her eyes once again, yet she was able to keep them from spilling, as she read what she had written in her diary:

_August 29th, 1997_

_It happened again. It hasn't happened in nearly three months, yet it happened today. I wasn't even that angry, either. The day had been going so nicely, even with the scare this morning of leaving this stupid, STUPID book at home. I hate this thing, so much, I HATE IT! I wish I could...well I can't express what I want to do to this damn diary. It is a symbolism of everything wrong in my life. To think the psychiatrist said it could save my pitiful excuse of an existence. Go to hell, everyone. Just leave Hermione Jane Granger the hell alone._

Fury started to boil in Hermione's blood again as she heard Harry's voice outside the bathroom door. She listened to his muffled statement, apparently talking to Ron.

"_...She's our friend, so if you would rather..._" She didn't want to hear anymore. Her diary had been perched on the slant of her up drawn legs, her inks on the floor beside her. Quickly, she lifted the items, shrunk them, and stuffed them in the pocket of her jeans unceremoniously with her Head Girl badge. Then as quietly as she could, she got off the floor and sat on the lid of the toilet, drawing her legs up so that they couldn't be seen under the door. The sound of the door opening cut through the silence as Harry walked in. His footsteps echoed off of the stone walls but he hadn't gone in very far before Ron's voice pounded into the lavatory.

"If there are any girls in there, Ron Weasley is coming in!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's melodramatics. He had been unwilling to enter the girl's bathroom on the second floor of Hogwarts—which no one entered because it was haunted by Moaning Myrtle—during their second year and she supposed he had been just as unwilling this time.

"Ron! We're trying to comfort her, not break her eardrums!" Harry scolded him. She could just imagine his face and ears changing hue from embarrassment.

"Sorry, Mate. Didn't think it would echo," he said sheepishly. Hermione knew that he was probably telling the truth, but, honestly!

_How thick can you get?_

"Hermione?" Harry's voice was soft as he called for her. She heard the sound of footsteps and a long pause before more footsteps. He was checking each stall for her.

_Well, this stall is locked!_

His feet could be seen under her door as he knocked hesitantly. "Hermione, we know you are in there. Let's talk, please?"

She scoffed. "_I'm_ sorry, but I'm not home at the moment. Please leave a message after the beep," she threw at them savagely. Her remark was almost sarcastic.

"Hermione, we just want to talk. Let us in!" Harry said impatiently, pounding his fist on the stall door for emphasis. His temper was quickly coming to a rise, Hermione noted.

"Is the _Boy-Who-Lived _getting angry now? Well, we can't let _that_ happen!"

Harry was getting fed up with his best friend's tone of voice. She was actually starting to sound like Draco Malfoy except that he wouldn't have sounded angry.

"HERMIONE, IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR—!" The sound of Harry's irritation reverberated off of the stone, all but deafening the trio. His sentence had been cut off by Ron, who had put a hand on Harry's arm to try to calm him down.

"_Alohamora,_" he said in a relatively calm voice. The lock on the door turned of its own accord and the door swung open, revealing the three friends. Harry had one fist in the air from pounding on the door, his face red in his annoyance. Ron stood calmly, giving Harry a look that clearly said, _you can be so stupid sometimes,_ his wand pointed where the lock of the door had been five minutes earlier. Hermione assumed she looked ridiculous with her arms wrapped around her legs, trying to fit all of her body on the toilet lid.

"Oh, yeah." Harry's embarrassed look making Hermione feel superior, he lowered his fist to his side. Then he gave her a stern look, which she scowled at. "Now we need to talk. We want to know why—"

Hermione didn't want to hear what either of them had to say. From all the talking they _had_ done, it didn't sound like they had gone into the bathroom to apologize, but to scold her. She did the only thing she could think of to do in that trapped-feeling situation.

_Crack!_

Harry and Ron peered into the stall, almost unbelievingly.

"DAMN!" Harry yelled into the empty stall in frustration.

Silence met Harry's curse; she had Apparated.

* * *

Draco Malfoy knew when he had been defeated, at least, outnumbered. Usually, the Slytherin that he was, he would have gotten out of that store before the fight even began, or he would have had Crabbe and Goyle to back him up.

_Potter wouldn't dare touch me with them around._

He could fight on his own, no doubt about it, but the Muggle way was _not_ the Malfoy way. Draco preferred his wand over his fists; he had been trained better in that department. Weasley would have been mince meat had he been on his own, but Potter was there, he was _always_ there, and Draco knew that against The-Boy-Who-Lived (as much as he loathed to admit it), he didn't have a chance in the world. But put Potter in a wizarding duel and Draco Malfoy was sure to have won; just look what happened in second year at the Dueling Club! He coincidently forgot that since the second year, Harry had taken on a basilisk, hundreds of dementors, various dangerous creatures, and Voldemort and his Death Eaters, until the Dark Lord was finally defeated. There was no doubt his skill with a wand had grown.

_Bugger Potter and his stupid friends._

Speaking of friends...Draco didn't remember seeing the Mudblood in that store at all.

_Maybe she has died, but I can't keep my hopes up. _Draco smirked at this thought, knowing that if Hermione Granger had died, the _Daily Prophet_ would have made the announcement headline news.

_A waste of ink, if you ask me..._

He looked up at his surroundings as he shoved people out of his way, noticing that he was moving against the current of people. There was an area of the road barren of shoppers that he walked to, just the place he wanted to be. Knockturn Alley branched off the side of this road looking gloomy and dark, and just reeking of the Dark Arts. A strange smell of fish, so thick it could have been fog, hung in the air. Draco had to abstain from choking or pinching his nose in disgust. Just peeking down this street, he knew that he had to be the cleanest person in the vicinity.

Draco treaded lightly past the shops, careful to watch his pockets from being pick-pocketed. He had learned from a very young age to trust no one. Before his father had died, Draco had never been trusted with information and private files in Malfoy Manor had always been locked with the most powerful locking spells. Living in a household with such little faith in other people had driven the junior Malfoy to be the same way; he knew not how to have confidence in others.

Suddenly a body tackled Draco, dark hair bouncing and shielding his line of view. Arms wrapped around his neck, choking him; strangling him. Draco was bent double from the weight of the pug faced girl smothering him with her sloppy kisses, clinging to him like a wet shirt on a body. The truest sense of salvation was what he felt when Pansy Parkinson finally let go of the disgusted young man.

"Draco! What happened to you?" she asked with sincere concern touching his face so lightly, had he been someone else, it wouldn't have seemed as if he was being touched at all. But, being who he was, Draco cringed at the stroke of her hand on his delicate skin, the feeling of her touch magnified a thousand times. A shiver of disgust racked his body. It seemed as if Pansy thought he was shaking in agony because she had wrapped her arms around him inelegantly.

Shoving the girl off of him, he wiped his mouth with his arm, ridding his face of her saliva and gave her an angry stare. Unfortunately for him, she would not be perturbed.

"I was in a fight, Pansy, what do you think?" he said viciously, but he knew that it didn't matter how evil he was to her; he would still be marrying her after graduation. His mother was being gracious enough to give him a choice between any Slytherin pure-blood, which his father would have never done. Lucious Malfoy would have forced his heir to marry the richest eligible bachelorette without any decision or suggestion from his son. To hell with love and choice; he wouldn't have trusted Draco enough to choose the right wife when he was alive. So between Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, the choice was obvious and Pansy knew it. Since she had found this out in the sixth year, she had been harder to shake than a Panamanian maraca without the beads inside. Draco was hers.

"Oh, Baby, are you all right?" she asked in a high-pitched baby-like voice. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?"

Draco's eyes widened in horror as Pansy's wet, salivated lips pursed and raised up to meet his.

_Crack!_

Draco had Apparated, leaving Pansy to fall flat on her face since all of her weight had been leaning on his warm body. He had to get away from her. Was it not enough that he would have to live with her for the rest of his life? This year was going to be spent in the company of other females—or away from Pansy—celebrating his last year of freedom.

The junior Malfoy landed with another _crack_ in the men's bathroom at the Leaky Cauldron. He had never personally been inside this lavatory, preferring to relieve himself in a much cleaner and more dignified restroom. Another man stood at a urinal relieving himself and staring at him. Draco assessed the man dauntingly, an expression on his face of superiority. Seeing nothing impressing of the man, he crossed his arms, his gaze never faltering.

"What are you staring at? Get out!" he yelled at him. With impressive speed, the man stepped away from the urinal and sped towards the door, zipping his pants up as he ran.

"So sorry, Mr. Malfoy! Lea-leaving now!" Terror quaked in his voice as he dashed out. The look on the man's face left Malfoy feeling better and he had even forgotten about his encounter with Pansy.

The echo of the door banging shut was deafening to Draco's ears, but he didn't even flinch as he ignored the loud sound. "Anyone else in here—if you know what's good for you, then you had better leave right now!"

Suddenly, the sound of flushing toilets and pants being zipped up filled the lavatory. Stall doors were shoved open in the occupants' hurries to get out of the bathroom. With all of the sounds clattering in the stone box, Draco couldn't hear the apologies of the two men and young boy scurrying out hastily. Finally having the peace and quiet of an empty bathroom, he turned to look in the mirror over one of the sinks. His hands resting on the ceramic washing basin, Draco peered at his reflection.

The skin around his eye had already started to bruise, the ugly colors of blue and green mixing in a large ring circling his eye. His lip had been busted open and still bled freely. Blood splattered onto the slightly grimy sink. Fascination clouded his senses as he studied the ruby red spot. It was his blood that made him powerful—not just his money—and made him extraordinary. He had been taught since a young age that his blood, so clean and pure, would shine with radiance compared to the blood of a half-blood or Mudblood, which was dirty and not worthy of any respect. Draco really believed that; he had always believed that.

Looking into the mirror once more, he saw that his hair had become disheveled from the brawl and his face had a slightly pink tinge. Taking his wand out of his robes, he healed his wounds with quick ease. His face held no more evidence of a struggle but he still felt the pain from his injuries. He would need a potion to rid himself of pain. With the pride and grace that ran through the Malfoy family, Draco straightened his clothing, dusted himself off, and took another glance in the mirror. Satisfied with what he saw, he stalked out of the bathroom and headed towards the bar to get a much needed drink. Every time he saw Potter, he needed a drink.

_Crack!_

His mission was stalled by an Apparator appearing right in his path. Affronted with the thought of anyone being so rude to a Malfoy, he opened his mouth to admonish this person when he noticed thatit was a woman. Her back was turned to him, but that didn't matter, he could still see her shining, mousy brown hair falling in waves just below her shoulders, and the curve of her womanly figure shaped through her clothes. By the way she was dressed—jeans, a blue sweater, and a strange pair of purple shoes he had never seen before—the girl looked to be about his age. She turned then, and the first thing he noticed was her rich brown eyes which entranced him and kept him frozen on the spot. Her lips were soft and slightly pout-y, in a way that looked delectable. He then noticed a red smear of something on the bridge of her nose and saw that her eyes were puffy from crying; those eyes that looked so familiar. Where had he seen them before? What had caused her to cry?

The look on her face was of sheer shock, which then quickly became guarded so that he couldn't read her anymore, but her eyes glinted with suppressed rage. Who was she mad at? With a gentleness that surprised even him, Draco wiped the red substance from her nose, wiped it on hisspotless robes,and cupped her cheek with his hand. The oh-so-familiar eyes looked up at him, shock and anger apparent in her facial expressions. He had to admit, this girl was a work of art; beautiful andexquisite. He suddenly had the desire to know who she was or to kiss her. Before he could ask her name, she had pulled her arm back and slapped him hard across the face. Now he could tell that she was angry, at _him_, for whatever reason he didn't know.

Stumbling backwards from the force of the blow, he clutched his cheek and stared at the woman in front of him. The aura around her reeked of hard emotions.

"What was that for?" he asked, getting angry at this stranger, this _woman_, for slapping him. Didn't she know who he was? He found that apparently, she did know of him.

"Draco Malfoy, don't you dare touch me again or I will hex you so bad, you won't be able to use the bathroom for a week! Didn't you learn anything from Harry and Ron earlier?" Draco was speechless. Who _was_ this girl? He thought she was lovely angry, though. Her cheeks were heated and her proverbial eyes lit up, a dangerous flame seemed to flicker in her soul. But then Draco registered that she knew Potter and Weasley. Comprehension dawned on him like the sun does every morning on a hill top. His eyes widened in alarm at the thoughts that had gone through his head about the girl standing in front of him, her fists clenched as if she wanted to hit him.

Fixing his countenance with a rigid mask, he folded his arms across his chest in defiance.

"Well, well, well. Look what the filthdragged in. If it isn't the Mudblood and know-it-all, Granger. What do you think you're doing here, dirtying a fine eating establishment such as this?" Draco had gotten back into his groove, acting as if he hadn't virtually come on to her in the first place.

A fist collided with the side of Draco's head, causing him to stumble and fall, knocking over a table while doing so. The whole of the Leaky Cauldron had gone quiet and stared at the two angry teenagers. Granger's face had crumpled into an ugly glower, a look of disgust now housed on _her_ face.

"SHUT-UP, MALFOY! I DON'T HAVE THE TIME FOR YOU NOW! THE SIGHT OF YOU IS JUST MAKING ME _SICK_!" she screamed down at him. Without another word from her, and leaving Draco shocked and still sprawled on the floor, she stomped across the pub and up the stairs. The sound of her footsteps resonated through the eerily quiet establishment. Hiding his embarrassment, Draco lifted himself off of the floor, and fixed the ruined table with a wave of his wand. He glared at everyone now staring at him and muttering.

_They must all think I've started a lover's quarrel or something! Me and the Mudblood? Assholes..._

"Go back to your own business!" he snapped at all of them. Hurriedly, everyone turned back around and resumed their former activities, and the pub filled with talk once again. For the second time in ten minutes, Draco dusted himself off and stalked out the backdoor of the Leaky Cauldron. He needed to get back to Knockturn Alley where his mother was—most likely, impatiently—waiting for him. The bustle of the crowd didn't help his pounding temples as he thought about Granger's change of appearance. She really had looked like a beauty but her attitide needed a makeover. Her harsh words echoed in his brain. A picture of her face screwed up in anger as she punched him was imprinted into his mind.

_How could I ever think her lovely?_ he asked himself, ignoring the buzz of excited shoppers as they pushed past him, again having toshove against the current.

* * *

**(A/N): Okay...you know what time it is...TOOL TIME!...NO, it's REVIEW TIME! It really does help to get reviews. When I have people expecting me to finish a chap, and I have readers waiting, then I want to finish faster so that they aren't left waiting. Reviews help me to see how many people are actually reading the story. I'm going on a trip this week so I might not get to update again until the week after. I'm so sorry about this! And I SWEAR this is a good story, it will take a while to get done, but it's all planned out, and I hope you love it. Or at least like it. Maybe just tolerate it. Like I am trying to think up a Snape/Hermione fic but it's really difficult and all I'm doing is planning! This story was thought up much easier than the other one is coming. SO I hope this story has some fans and I hope some of you are going to stick around until the end, however long it takes. And I know in my profile I said there would be music in this story, that's in the future.Most likely not until school starts... Okay thanks, review please and thanks!-Jess**


	6. An Irksome Agreement

**(A/N): You know, for five chapters, I have written over sixteen thousand words. That just sounds..._amazing_ doesn't it? I mean, I've never invested so much time into a story and I have never written one so long. Plus, this one isn't even done yet! I wonder how many words I will have written when it is finished...**

**Obviously, I am back from my three day trip, and between the 10th and May 7th, I will be on another one. For the last two weeks of the trip, I _will_ be in the vicinity of a computer and will try to update then. **

**Chayia: Thank you _so_ much for this review. Tears sprang to my eyes as I was reading it. And I'm not just saying that either! The part where Draco mistakes Hermione really was hard to write. I wasn't sure if what I wrote would make people roll their eyes or if they would think it was cheasey or whatever. It's such a relief to know you liked it! Yeah, and that drunk woman added some color, huh? I'm thinking about using her later. She was a detail I added just as I was typing that part so I hadn't planned her. And I am actually enjoying writing this story. Usually I don't like what I write but this is one of the few things that I have written that I actually think is good. Receiving reviews just boosts my self confidence (which is good because I really don't have any...self confidence I mean) Thanks again for your review; I mean it! Love you so much!**

**Elf Girl 92: Um...there won't be Snape/Hermione in this story but if I do write a S/H fic, then you don't have to read it. I would also love to hear what you think is wrong with Hermione. Enlighten me! I would love to hear any of my readers' theories on her predicament or on the future of the story. And if you read the Author's Notes on Chapter 3, I think, I have a reason for Hermione being so emotional. Everything will be revealed in the future and if you don't like the way I write her, just don't read. I don't mind getting constructive criticism as long as my plot is not criticized. Again, if you don't like it, don't read it. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine...:( 'nuff said**

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**An Irksome Agreement:**

Hermione's stomping feet disturbed the dust that had settled on the stairs as she trudged to her room. She didn't need confrontation with Draco Malfoy; she could have foreseen herself getting angry, and that was the _very_ last thing she needed. Though, she hadn't expected punching him and knocking him to the ground. Her spirits had soared after that; her annoyance with Malfoy had flown the coop. Now she had a memory of the evil git that she could savor forever, and it would be stored next to the memory of Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing Ferret. He'd made a better ferret than a boy anyway.

Entering her own room, Hermione went to her desk, removed her diary and purchases from her robe, and un-shrunk them. She sat down huffily, and opened the journal, staring at the blank page after her latest entry. Thoughts of her recent encounter swirled around her head, confusing her until it became too difficult to think, which took a lot since Hermione Granger almost never stopped thinking.

The way he had touched her face, the gentleness of the motion, had definitely been surprising. His hand had been warm cupping her cheek. Had he been anyone else, she might have sighed and leant her head into his hand. She could almost call the gesture comforting but couldn't imagine Malfoy being comforting; it just wasn't natural. Either way, she needed to be comforted, so his touch soothed her of emotion and exhaustion. Though, it returned as soon as she had remembered who had been touching her face.

Remembering the description of him she had given to her friends, Jessica and Adrian, Hermione would definitely say that Malfoy had changed over the summer. He had gotten taller—at least four inches taller than Hermione—so that she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. He still had beautiful eyes. For some reason, no matter how much hatred Malfoy had held in those eyes, she had always been fascinated by them. She could have stood in front of him, staring into the ice-like pools forever if she could. The scrawny boy he had been last year was no more. His physique had filled out, even though he wasn't as muscular as Harry had gotten. It didn't matter to her; seeing him again had left her breathless.

_Breathless because I was mad. I can't get attracted to someone who hates me—who I hate!_

Hermione shook her head as if to clear the thoughts of Malfoy out of her mind, and for the third time that day, began to write down the events of ten minutes ago.

It wasn't unusual for her to write many times in one day. In fact, sometimes she would write five entries, but it all depended on how emotional her experiences were. Purple ink quickly filled one page and she had to go on to a second. Finally empty of all her thoughts, Hermione closed her diary, shrunk it, her quill, and one of the inkwells and returned them to her pocket. She strode to her bed and lay down, exhausted from the various moods she had had since she'd left home. In her book, she had just had a very bad day. Her eyes closed and she rubbed them with her thumb and forefinger. She fell into a fitful sleep within minutes; images of mysteriously startling silver eyes plaguing her dreams.

* * *

Harry was still pissed that Hermione had escaped the toilet so easily. Slamming the door open, he stomped out of the bathroom, Ron following him as usual. The looks of horror he received from the women and the looks of confusion from the men as they took their leave went ignored by the troubled teen. As he walked through the pub, people whispered, not even trying to be discreet, and stared at the scar on his forehead; the plague of Harry's life. Ron was cross at all of the attention he wasn't receiving; him—the best friend of Harry Potter! No one thought him famous for being one of the closest people to him and he found this thought irksome; especially since his friendship with The-Boy-Who-Lived was one of a kind—something his brother's had never done before. Being friends with Harry made Ron Weasley different from all of his brothers who had already done it all, so to speak.

Harry came to an abrupt stop, causing Ron to bump into him, releasing a slight _oomph_ sound from the impact. Shaking his head and rubbing his nose, he fixed his robes to stand beside Harry to see what had brought his friend to a halt. Standing in front of them was Draco Malfoy, dusting his robes as if he had just gotten off of the ground. The hurried mutterings of the people around the three young men became louder as interest peeked in hope of an encounter like the one between Malfoy and the Granger girl. The rivalry between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy was as infamous as both of their names.

"Malfoy," Harry finally said, contempt dripping from his tone as he crossed his arms and gave his rival an angry glare. Malfoy returned the a glare worthy of Severus Snape. His hands were clenched into fists in his pockets, one clutching his wand so hard, his knuckles were white; though no one could see them. His eyes shone in malevolence and amusement.

"Potter, Weasley. I'm not at all sorry to say that I don't bend that way so I would appreciate it if you would stop following me like lovesick puppies."

Ron's mouth dropped open at this accusation and tried to oppose, but his outrage at what Malfoy had implied—that he and Harry were g—stalking him—robbed the poor boy of speech. Spluttering sounds fell out of his mouth with as much grace as a wingless Augurey, and all of a sudden, his ears started to redden; his face followed soon after. His fists clenched and he took a step forward as if to tackle him, but Harry's strong grip restrained him. Still gaping like an idiot, Ron looked at Harry as if to protest. The blue eyes looked into the green ones clearly reading, _let me go, let me at him! _Harry shook his head, never letting go of the freckled arm.

Both boys had been unaware of the way Malfoy had been eyeing them; as if he were watching a strange, awkward scene. Now he yawned and stretched his arms over his head, getting impatient and sleepy from being ignored. He wasn't used to being ignored, so of course, he brought the attention back to himself.

"As much as I hate to break up this lovely affair, I really do have much better things to do. I've wasted enough of my time in this dump," he said to them, contradicting what he had said to Hermione only a few minutes before.

Harry looked at Malfoy as if he had never noticed he had been with them all along. Ron yanked his arm from his grasp as Harry's attention had been stolen. Absently rubbing the area that had been clasped, he looked angrily at Harry then awarded Malfoy with the same.

But Harry surprised both by proclaiming, "Wait!" as Malfoy turned away. He didn't look at the blond boy; at the sneer most likely contaminating his face. Instead he looked at the ground, twisting the front of his t-shirt with his fingers in an anxious manner.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy asked, his sneer even oozing into his tone of voice. "Unlike you, I don't have all day to mosey around. Unlike you, I have places to go, and, unlike you, people waiting for my appearance."

Harry gave Malfoy an almighty glare. "Well, you, unlike me, are the biggest git alive, and I, unlike you, actually have friends, so..." He turned his head to look at Ron, then looked Malfoy in the eye. With a confidence he didn't really have, he replied, "So have you seen Hermione? We're looking for her."

Ron's eyes were bugging out, having the affect of looking deranged, at what Harry had admitted—to their biggest enemy, no less! There was no reason for the spoiled brat to know that their friendship was faltering, or had faltered, even for the smallest of fights. What Harry had done would be just like casually asking Voldemort if he'd seen Albus Dumbledore lately, and would probably have the same effect as well.

"Granger?" The git asked suspiciously, his icy, silver eyes narrowed in distrust. _Has Potter heard about that already?_ "What do you know?" He prodded, trying to see if the two dunderheads had seen or heard about the Mudblood punching him...or of his behavior towards her.

"What do I know? I don't understand what you're...Never mind. If you haven't seen her then, not that I expected a straight answer anyway, we'll be off. Come on, Ron."

Draco let out the breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding; relieved that the dimwits were clueless. To his surprise, relief seemed to score through his body; he didn't think he would—could—react to _anything_ this strongly. She was just a Mudblood.

_A Mudblood who punched me. What would Father say? He'd be ashamed, disgusted, I'd be beaten, _he realized with intense clarity

"If I told you where she went, what would I receive in return?" he asked the backs of the two forlorn retreating figures. His arms were crossed giving everyone in the pub an image of confidence; when in truth, arms crossed over the chest could be taken as a cowardly position.

It seemed that no matter what Malfoy did, he would never be seen in anything except a superior light. All Malfoys had this way with people; their power and influence with the Dark Arts brought fear to the wizarding world, ensuring that everyone knew the Malfoys were not people to cross. Draco, the living heir to the Malfoy empire, was now the most influential man in Britain (besides Voldemort, who really couldn't be called a man anymore), and this thought left the boy terrified and awestruck; though no one alive would ever see anyone of the Malfoys' weaknesses, such as emotion.

"Forget it Harry! We can find Hermione on our own. We're not giving _him_ anything!" Ron said as he pulled on Harry's shirt sleeve, trying to persuade the slightly-shorter- figure-of-muscle move. Ron's attempts went ignored as Harry and Malfoy glared at each other, both with their arms crossed and both having a mutual feeling of disdain clearly shown in each of their very different eyes.

"Anything," Harry answered his nemesis's question. Ron felt like he had been totally left out of the exchange, which wasn't fair since Hermione was his best friend too. He threw his hands up in exasperation, letting out an audible sigh. Neither boy paid any attention to the incessant mutterings of customers watching the happenings. Merlin knew, it wasn't everyday The-Boy-Who-Lived and Draco Malfoy could come to an agreement! Besides the burst of chatterings and the snaps of pictures being taken every once in a while, the pub was quiet. Even Tom watched the interaction with mounting interest, _shush_ing any customer who dared to break the silence with their order of drink—in a most Hermione-like way, might it be added—while being vaguely aware of wiping the inside of a glass mug with a rag.

The whole pub was attentive as Draco Malfoy rubbed his chin, trying to decide what he could take from Potter out of anything in the world. Finally, he raised his head to meet Potter's awaiting and anxious gaze, his sneer firmly in place, yet an uncharacteristic twinkle, much like that of Albus Dumbledore, was also present in his eyes. The sight of his always lingering confidence unnerved Harry. What could he possibly want from him, or make him do? Was he going to have to reveal any secrets? Because if he had to, he was totally planning to lie. Hopefully, Ron wouldn't contradict him...

But Ron was actually fuming on the inside. It was highly likely that Malfoy was going to make Harry do something extremely stupid and embarrassing, and then not tell them where Hermione had really gone at all, or lie about it. It was even more likely that Malfoy hadn't seen her at all! Ron pondered Malfoy's reply when Harry had asked if he had seen Hermione. The accusatory tone he had answered with and his word choice were questionable and strange. Did something happen between...

"Your wand," the silence had become so absolute after Malfoy's pronouncement, that Ron could have sworn someone had placed a silencing charm on the Leaky Cauldron. He shook his flaming red head, unsure of what he had heard. Apparently, Harry was having the same problem comprehending also.

"Wha—what?" His mouth hung open stupidly, his arms had dropped to his sides with his shock.

"I want your wand," Malfoy repeated. "I want to examine it."

"Absolutely not! You'll corrupt it or something!" Ron ended up shouting at Malfoy. No one should ever relinquish their wand of their own free will—especially when the wand is surrendered to someone who isn't trusted, or a Malfoy. He turned to Harry expecting to see his friend outraged and refusing to renounce his wand. What he saw, shocked and angered the hot-tempered redhead.

Harry looked relaxed, no _relieved_, that Malfoy had _only just _suggested that he give up his wand for inspection. He kept his arms uncrossed and his expression open as he nodded his head in not-quite-understanding. Slowly, he pulled his wand from the back pocket of his jeans, and held it tightly in shaking fingers. He breathed in, and let the air out slowly, in a hiss of sound like a tire leaking air. What was he thinking? If he handed that wand over, Ron would go ahead and call him dead. _Suicide._

Still never glancing at his best friend, Harry said in a voice filled with a mixture of relief, impatience, and—the slight tremor suggesting so—dread, "Ron, it takes powerful Dark magic to corrupt a wand, same as a broomstick."

In defiance, Ron answered back, "Yes, but we are talking about Draco Malfoy here! Not Neville Longbottom, definitely not Hermione Granger..._Malfoy_." His voice carried far enough for said Malfoy to hear, though Ron didn't seem to care. The whole pub was already watching the private occurrence, and Ron was just ticked that he hadn't thought to sell tickets; he could have used the money. What ruined his little inside joke was the bitterness with which he had been thinking of it, the bitterness he felt at Malfoy for causing the situation, Harry for biting the bait, and even Hermione for running off like a fucking crying baby. What was the big deal? They would have found her eventually. Hell, they should try her room before running to Malfoy for help, and _he'd_ hold it against them.

Harry pulled Ron off to the side, turning away from Malfoy and their audience, his grip back to Ron's arm cutting off the circulation.

_The man doesn't know his own strength._

Oh, the truth in that thought he would never understand.

"Ron, I don't trust Malfoy as far as I can throw him but he's going to help us find Hermione. If she's in one of her moods, it's possible that she's a danger to herself and others. To go around town, asking for her, the news would get back to her and she would just run off again."

"Maybe so, Harry, but _you can't trust Malfoy!_ He never actually said he saw Hermione. He's probably just trying to steal your wand—_your wand!_—and would never give you the truth as to where she is! Let go of me, and this is the stupidest thing you have ever done! Excluding our little venture to the Department of Mysteries last year, of course—where, because of you, Sirius was killed!"

That had been the last straw. Ron had just crossed a line that had never even been approached in the past, and the consequences would be dire. They'd spoken in harsh whispers loud enough only for a select few to hear, luckily, Malfoy had not been one of them. Harry stood straight, at his tallest, a height that barely reached Ron's nose, a look of indignant fury on his face. His lips had become a white from the pressure of clamping his mouth shut, his emerald eyes blazed with a fantastic fire fueled by wrath. His hands were also clamped into fists at his sides, his right hand still bearing his wand. Harry's whole body shook with the same ferocity his eyes held, and Ron became distinctly aware of his friend's physical and magical power. The thought sent shivers of fear down his spine, yet he fought to look braver, calmer, and more confident than he was.

"FINE! WHY DON'T YOU GO LOOK FOR HER YOURSELF, AND I'LL FIND HER MY WAY! JUST GET OUT MY FACE! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU ANYMORE!" Harry bellowed, spit flying in all directions. As Ron wiped his face of saliva, he saw Harry's Weasley-like red face and wondered if what he was looking at was the image of Harry's Uncle Vernon. He didn't always have such a bad temper, yet what Ron had said had been touching a very sensitive subject.

"Oh look, the Golden Couple is breaking up," Malfoy entered, the effect of his comment lost as everyone ignored him. He sighed, jealous no attention was paid to him.

Ron opened and closed his mouth, his eyes now just as angry as Harry's, like he wanted to have the last word in. He felt humiliated as he stalked off, like a puppy that had just been beaten. Not only was he taller than Harry, he was older too, yet he'd been made to look like one of Harry Potter's followers; someone who would do anything he'd told them to do. As he stalked up the stairs, Ron tried to ignore the whisperings of the people seated around the bar. People were pointing at him, mocking him, laughing at him. Yet, he successfully made it up the stairs without humiliating himself further, or blowing up the whole establishment.

Harry counted to ten to cool his temper and turned to face Malfoy's cool figure. He hadn't seemed to move a single inch, except the way he had moved his head when Harry turned around suggested he had craned his neck to see what he and Ron were doing. This thought became confirmed as Harry offered the wand to Malfoy, the boys connected with the wand, yet not letting go or pulling it away.

"No tricks, Potter," he had said, his suspicion aroused again. His foe nodded, his lips still tight. Draco recognized the look as reluctance, and completely understood. Personally, he thought Potter was an idiot for letting him see his wand. _He_ would have never given his greatest weapon to his enemy for all the Galleons in the world; or any woman in the world, since he really didn't need any more money. Then he took the wand before the Golden Boy changed his mind, leaving him with his arm still outstretched. Unsure of what to do while he waited, Potter had crossed his arms again, alternating his weight from one leg to the other, but his gaze never left the wand or Draco.

Malfoy poked and prodded Harry's wand with his own, looking for only Merlin knew what. He started getting edgy, wondering if it was a bad idea to give his enemy his wand.

_What am I thinking; of course it was a bad idea! Just shows how desperate I am, I guess._

Ron had gone upstairs, supposedly to the room he and Harry shared. It didn't matter though, Harry and Ron both knew that what Ron did had been unspeakable. Now, even though they shared sleeping space, they wouldn't talk to each other. They would be as childish as they had been in fourth year when Ron wouldn't talk to Harry. But then he had had Hermione, and now, she couldn't be found. Even when he found her, it was likely that Ron wouldn't talk to either of them. As the years went on, it became harder to find common ground and to not bicker. Harry was afraid of what would happen if he suddenly lost his two best friends before they had to go into "the real world". What would he do without Ron and Hermione?

He'd be lost.

Harry was barely aware of Malfoy performing _Priori Incantatem _on his wand. Then the wand was being shoved back into his hands, surprise evident on Harry's face—he hadn't expected Malfoy to give it back so easily. Whatever conclusion Malfoy had come to, whatever it was that he had been looking for, Harry would never know, and it took all of his strength not to ask. He had no idea if his wand had been hexed, jinxed, or cursed. Of course, as soon as he found Hermione, he would go to Olivander's wand shop to have tests run.

Malfoy shrugged and said, "I'm a man of my word. First lesson a Malfoy learns in life is honor. Your Mudblood ran upstairs, from there, I don't know where she went."

Harry glared at Malfoy for calling Hermione _that name_. He nodded his head and turned towards the stairs, finally aware of how vast his audience had been. It seemed like some customers had recruited more people into the Leaky Cauldron to watch. He looked around the room sending a hefty glare all around, and the wizard-folk hurriedly went back to drinking and chatting. Just as Harry reached the first step of the staircase, Malfoy called back to him.

"Oh, and Potter? Tell her I said, 'hello', would you?" His smirk was unbearable, Harry wanted to smack it off of his face.

Harry gave a look of utter disgust, turned back around, and continued up the stairs.

* * *

**(A/N): I know it has taken me nearly three weeks to update and I'm trying not to make excuses, but it really is getting harder to write. I know the basic plot of the story, and details for a few scenes, but the hard part is writing the little scenes that lead up to the big ones. Though, as I was writing, I realized that this chap, last chap, and I think the next one are important scenes. **

**I was going to write more for this chapter, but 1) I leave on my big trip tomorrow and I don't have a ton of time to write today, 2) I don't know what I would have written after this chap so when I write again, I have this part in my head, and 3) I was just ready to update!**

**I want to thank all my readers for being patient with me. I tend to get excited about an idea for a story but then as I start to write it, I lose interest and abandon it. I will _not_ do that with this story particularly because I know (well, hope) people are reading this somewhere, and I don't want to disappoint my readers! So, anyway, it's time to review, and I hope I get a hefty surprise as I check my email in a couple of weeks! And just to repeat, I will be taking this story with me on my trip and hopefully will be working on it when I have a computer in about two weeks. Thanks, to my only two reveiweres! Luv ya _so_ much! –Jess **


	7. Truth and RedemptionWell Sorta

**(A/N): I am back from my trip! Now we will be getting into the importance of the diary, or at least, getting closer to understanding the importance. I was shocked and surprised to find I had ONE review... So thanks:**

**Smart1One: Yes, I have read all three books and they tie in first place with the Harry Potter series as my favorite books in the entire world! I would love to discuss them with you sometimes, yet I am sad to say, I haven't read The Subtle Knife or the Amber Spyglass in a year. They don't have those books here where I live, so I haven't read them in a while.**

**(A/N): Lucky for you guys I really felt like writing, I finished this chapter in about four days (extra days were used to edit and fix it up). I'm dedicating this chapter to **Smart1One** since they were my only reviewer. So, on with the story.**

**Disclaimer: I finished readingThe Plot Thickens...Harry Potter Investigated by Fans for Fans a couple of days ago. It was a very interesting read and I had come up with many conclusions by the end of the book. One conclusion I made was that Jo has created a very complex and sophisticated plot that nothing I could ever write could ever be compared to. Just the same, I could never compare with JK as a writer. She has more talent in her pinky than I do in my entire body. I know you are saying, "What is the point of this?" but I am getting there. With tears in my eyes (and great sadness), I say: Harry Potter and Co. do not belong to me, but I say this with honor and admiration as well... But enough with the melodramatics... ON WITH THE STORY!**

* * *

**Truth and Redemption...Well Sorta:**

Hermione's dreams were interrupted by an annoying whine. Those beautiful silver eyes she had dreamed about drifted painstakingly away from her sleep. So slowly, Hell might have frozen over, Hermione gained consciousness. She could still hear that voice as she opened her eyes, her world fading-in into a fuzzy blur. Through the fuzz only one thing was distinguishable: a pale face spotted with freckles, surrounded by a mass of flaming red hair. The vision was actually talking, Hermione realized; the voice grating on her nerves.

"Hermione, wake up. Harry and I have been looking for you everywhere."

_Finally, clear sound. Wait, Harry and Ron? Who cares._

She groaned and clutched her forehead as she sat up, propping her body on one elbow. Even though her head pounded from a beginning headache, the events of earlier in the day flooded back to Hermione's memory. Rubbing her eyes she asked, "What time is it?"

Ron Weasley straightened again and checked the wind-up watch on his freckled wrist. "It's 4:30, Hermione. Have you been asleep this long?" The look of concern on his face caused Hermione to swallow the bitter remark she had been ready to throw at him, and she suddenly felt wide awake.

"Um, I don't know—probably. You do know you are one of the last people I want to see right now, right?" she asked him, looking up at him from the bed.

"Yeah, I do. Harry's in the hall. He came in a little while after I found you and tried to help me wake you up, but then you punched him."

"I hope I broke his nose. He would have deserved it; just like Malfoy," she said as her eyes narrowed in her agitation at Harry.

Ron sat on the edge of Hermione's bed, confused by what she had just said. "What do you mean?"

Hermione gave an amused laugh and sat up as she traced her lip with one finger aimlessly. "Malfoy mistook me for someone else and tried to come on to me," she retold simply, ignoring Ron's look of outrage.

"Wait 'til I get my hands on him..." he said, cracking his knuckles and grinding his teeth.

"Ron," Hermione warned, "he only touched my cheek, and for that, he got a punch in the face. I can take care of myself."

"Obviously," an angry snarl voiced from the doorway. Hermione looked away from Ron to the door, seeing Harry leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. Ron noticed him as well, and sent Hermione a guilty look. "Ron, when were you going to let me back in?" he asked accusatorily.

"I don't have anything to say to you, Harry," Hermione interjected before Ron could answer.

"Well, I have a lot to say to you!" Harry screamed at her, stepping into the room. His arms uncrossed and his hands formed fists at his sides. Ron jumped from the bed to stand between both of his angry friends. Hermione stayed seated on the bed, while Harry continued to stand half in the doorway, half in the room; both of them stared daggers at each other.

"Harry, what's wrong with you? Ever since Sirius died, you have been nothing but angry at everyone for no reason," she asked sadly. The Harry Potter standing in front of her was not the same one she had met and become friends with in their first year. This wasn't the Harry Potter who helped save her from a troll, helped to save Sirius Black, or worried about her well-being in the Department of Mysteries. Where had her best friend gone?

"Really, Hermione, it doesn't take a genius to figure that out! How many brain cells did you burn thinking that up?" he replied.

That comment stung like a slap in the face. Hermione realized that Harry had been consumed by his grief over Sirius' death. His anger towards Ron and her two summers ago, at Sirius for dieing, and Professor Dumbledore for withholding information, caused Harry to resent his life and his destiny. Even now, with Voldemort gone, Harry still had this hostile demeanor. The pressure from the prophesy had been released, but Harry had not been cured. He still held his angry feelings; he still held his grudges. Hermione wondered how he treated his new girlfriend, or if Ginny's feisty attitude had taught Harry to behave in her presence. She figured that he really had been happy to see her, that he wasn't really that angry all of the time, but didn't know how to control that kind of emotion. How would he, living with the uncle that he lived with for ten years of his life plus summer vacations?

As Hermione had been reflecting, she didn't notice Ron mouthing something to Harry, bulging his eyes out and nodding his head in a certain direction as if to tell him something. Finally, Harry sighed and relaxed his posture. He entered the room and sat on the bed where Ron had been, and faced Hermione who hadn't budged since she'd awoken.

"Hermione, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. You did nothing wrong." Ron stood in the background, his arms crossed, eyes closed—a silly smile lighting his face—nodding his head as if in agreement. Harry continued, "Ron and I were wrong to blame you for hiding in that store—" Ron started, the look he was giving now of disbelief. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no sound emerged. In fact, the only sounds in the room were Harry's voice and the crackling of the fire in the fireplace. "I'm sorry I overreacted and kudos for punching Malfoy."

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione now looked resigned, as if she were exhausted or as if the argument had zapped all of her energy. **(A/N: Which might be the same thing (; )**

Now he turned to Ron. "It turns out you were right—Hermione was in her room all along. You didn't have to have Malfoy tell you that. And now he probably has valuable information about my wand. I'm sorry for arguing with you about that."

"WHAT?" Hermione screamed from the bed. "YOU GAVE MALFOY YOUR WAND, JUST TO FIND ME?" She grabbed a pillow from behind her and hit Harry with it over and over on the head. "ARE YOU THICK OR SOMETHING? HOW—STUPID—CAN—YOU—GET?" she bellowed with each hit.

Harry put up a weak defense with his hands, trying to explain his plight to his friend. "Hermione! He only had it for a second! It's no big deal!"

This remark stunned Hermione dumb for a moment, the pillow lay nearly forgotten—except for her steel tight grip on the fabric—on the bed. "No big deal? Harry, just because Voldemort is gone doesn't mean you don't have enemies! Malfoy might still have connections with the Death Eaters that haven't been caught! Plus, who knows what information he got from your wand or how he will use it! THAT—COULD—HAVE—BEEN—THE—STUPIDEST—THING—YOU—HAVE—EVER—DONE!" And so, the pillow returned from its short retirement.

"Whatever he did, the stupidest thing he's done is offer condolences after Percy died. Dad nearly had a fit," another voice said from the doorway. Hermione looked to the door again, sparing Harry any more hits from the pillow and leaving him cowering, his hands blocking his face and glasses.

"Oh, no, Ginny. Your boyfriend here gave Malfoy his wand for inspection!" Hermione told the youngest Weasley at the door. Ginny's eyes widened in alarm as she looked to Harry, who was recovering from Hermione's attack on the bed.

"I stand corrected. Harry! Of all the stupidest things you could have done, _why_ did you give Malfoy your wand?"

Harry just shrugged. "I wanted to know where Hermione was, and he said he'd seen her."

"But he might have lied!" Hermione and Ginny screamed in unison.

Harry shrugged again.

"Well, I guess there's nothing we can do about it except wait for Malfoy to make a move." Ron entered smartly. The other three nodded in agreement.

There was a short silence as everyone contemplated their current thoughts. The fire continued to crackle merrily in the grate; the sound of the wood popping fillied the silence.

"You should have heard Malfoy when Harry asked for you, Hermione!" Ron said brightly, smiling at the thought of the git's reaction.

"Why? What did he do?" Hermione asked interestedly. They hadn't seen Malfoy until after she had been through with him, so she could only imagine what he might have said or done.

"Harry asked, 'Have you seen, Hermione?' and Malfoy said 'Why? What have you heard?' all suspicious and stuff. Of course Harry and I had no idea what he was talking about!" Ron laughed as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world, when in fact, it was an _I-guess-you-just-had-to-be-there_ moment.

"I don't either," Ginny said confusedly.

Hermione was smiling now, just picturing Draco Malfoy with a bloody nose, trying to squash any rumors that did not appeal to his reputation. "Malfoy came onto me and I punched him," she cleared up for Ginny, who gaped at the once bushy-haired girl.

"He came on to you? I told you, Hermione! You look gorgeous; even Draco Malfoy, Scum of the Universe, was mooning over you!"

Now Hermione was laughing as well. "Yeah, I know!" The prospect of any Malfoy at all finding her attractive just killed her. Apparently her laugh was infectious because it wasn't long before the room was filled with the warm sound.

All of a sudden, Hermione stopped laughing. "Oh gods!" she cried in alarm as she finally realized the amount of time that had passed.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ginny asked her.

"We were supposed to meet your mum hours ago!"

"Oh, don't worry about it," Ron said, waving his hand at her as if to push the subject aside. "After we found you here, we met mum and came back. We told her where you were so she wouldn't worry."

"But I haven't purchased any of my supplies!" she realized.

"Well, neither have Ron and I. Except for our books, which we bought when we met Mrs. Weasley."

"Yeah, just get everything tomorrow," Ginny suggested.

Hermione relaxed but she still felt a bit of anxiety that she would forget to buy something and not realize it until it was too late. She pushed the thought aside and tried to enjoy their lighthearted conversation, but the feeling wouldn't go away. Every once in a while she found herself slipping her hand into her pocket checking for her shrunken diary. She hadn't noticed this action until the seventh time in five minutes.

"Hermione, is there something wrong?" Harry asked while sharing a look with Ron that said _here she goes again. _Ginny looked from Harry to Hermione to Ron, and realized that only they really knew what was happening.

Hermione pulled her hand from her pocket. Her diary was still safe—for now. "I really feel like writing something," she replied. She may have missed the look Ron gave back to Harry, but Ginny noticed not only the looks, but the tension that Hermione seemed to have created in the room. Ginny also noticed that Hermione seemed oblivious to this tension; like Harry and Ron had become tense _for _Hermione or _about _her, if that made any sense. All in all, she really didn't know what was going on.

"You know, Hermione, you _can_ write right now. It's not like we can read your diary from here." Harry was almost annoyed by Hermione's ultimate privacy. She'd been writing in her diary (as far as he knew) since sixth year and neither Harry nor Ron had any idea what she put in it, nor did he care. For all he knew, she kept school notes in it, or brilliant quotes. She could possibly be writing every word, every second of her own life down! That would explain why she wrote in it so often, anyway.

She pulled her diary, ink, and quill from her pocket and wiped beads of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Completely ignoring everyone else in the room she un-shrunk the items and opened the book to a blank page. Hermione was in her own world as she began to write. The more words that flowed onto the page, the more pages she filled, the more thoughts that escaped her head, more of the anxiety slowly but surely disappeared. To her it was a mystery as to exactly why she was feeling anxious, but she thought her soul felt cleansed when it went away. Never in her life had Hermione taken drugs, but all signs and symptoms were that of a drug addiction. She _knew _that she had this addiction, but didn't know how to handle it except to fulfill her urges; she even knew that Harry and Ron were aware of this problem.

_I need help._

The thought crossed her mind before she could stop it. Her quill paused, her hand quaked, and she looked up from the journal.

"Hermione...?" She looked to her friends, who had all been watching her.

"We couldn't see anything!" Ron was quick to assure, holding up his hands in a sign of peace.

Slowly she shook her head from side to side, faster and faster until her hair was flying.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, racing to her side on the bed, grabbing the sides of her face to stop her shaking. She looked into Harry's eyes, her own suddenly filling with tears, and Harry felt guilty about screaming at her that day. She looked so helpless and lonely. There _was_ something going on with her and she had to handle it all on her own. He and Ron could have helped her; why didn't she ask for help?

"I need help..." she whispered shakily.

_What timing..._

Harry let go of Hermione's face and held her shaking body. She put her arms around his neck, clinging to his strong form as she began to sob. Ron came to the bed, sat beside Harry and patted her back. Pulling away from Harry now, she turned to Ron and clung to him. His hands were gentle as he stroked her hair, doing the things he had done to comfort her while they had gone out.

Hermione had closed the diary. She'd stopped writing mid-sentence; mid-_word._ For the first time since she had gotten the journal, more than a year ago, she had closed the book with an unfinished entry. Usually, when she started to write, her diary came first and everything else second. If her parents told her to do something, if she had homework to do, she didn't do it until she had finished writing the entry. With this realization, she experienced a fleeting feeling of triumph. Maybe she could fight this unnatural addiction; maybe she could start to wean away from the diary and get proper help...wizarding help.

Ginny still stood by the door, which she had closed for privacy. She felt awkward, like a third wheel, and didn't know what was going on. She thought she might have been intruding but when the door creaked as she opened it to leave, Hermione looked up, and to put it simply, she looked like Hell for crying for only five minutes. Her eyes were red and puffy, the tear drops smearing the make up she had fixed earlier.

"You don't have to go...I want you to know this too," Hermione called to her only real female friend through a strangled voice.

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude..."

"They don't know any more than you, really," she told her, smiling weakly through her tears. Ginny went around Hermione's bed and perched on her cot. Pan hooted sadly from the wardrobe, waking up from a midday nap.

Hermione turned to all three of her friends to explain. "Something happened during the summer after fifth year. I know you've noticed something strange with me for a while but only my parents know the true importance of this diary." She held up the book, showing them the cover as if for emphasis.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Mrs. Weasley came into the room.

"Hermione! Did you have a good nap, Dear?" A stunned Hermione nodded. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" she asked. "RON! WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I didn't do anything!" he cried miserably. "Why did _I_ have to do something?" But Mrs. Weasley came in the room further to check on Hermione.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley. Really, it's just sinuses or something."

Molly Weasley wasn't easily fooled. She had seven children and a husband; she'd heard every excuse in every book, but she left Hermione alone. She seemed to be in comforting hands, and she was a grown girl. Molly supposed she could handle herself. "Alright then, Dear," she said as she studied Hermione. "I just came in to see if you needed any knew robes. I'm heading back to Diagon Alley to pick up some dress robes for Arthur."

"That's alright, Mrs. Weasley." Harry.

"I'll get them tomorrow," Hermione replied. Suddenly, her hands started to itch and her brow became damp with perspiration.

"Hermione, Dear, you know you can talk to me if you need to. I'm here for all of you if you need anything."

"I know Mrs. Weasley," Hermione replied distractedly. Her hand was already in her pocket before she could stop it.

Mrs. Weasley left the room wearing a look of concern for the girl. She looked to the other kids in the room but Ginny's expression was blank, and Harry and Ron just shrugged their shoulders.

"Alright then. Arthur is in our room. Everybody meet in the parlor for dinner at six-thirty, sharp." Everyone in the room nodded; everyone showed their respect by looking at the motherly woman except Hermione. Then Mrs. Weasley was gone and the three concerned faces turned to look at the girl mystery. She had the diary out and un-shrunk, writing furiously.

Harry grabbed Hermione's shoulders and shook them lightly. "Hermione, Hermione, what were you going to say? What did you want to tell us?" he asked a bit frantically. "We can help you!"

Without looking up or pausing in her writing, she replied. "I don't have anything to say. I wasn't thinking clearly. I don't need help. Ihad help. I _have_ help. Stop it; I can't write with you shaking me!" Harry let go of her shoulders, the sadness in his face apparent and transferred to Ron when their eyes met. It was too late. They could have helped her except for Mrs. Weasley's interruption; she wasn't going to talk. Even Ginny looked gloomy since she at least halfway understood the importance of the information they could have obtained.

The sounds coming from the fireplace, and scratchings of Hermione's quill went unnoticed and left a morbid feeling in the air. Hermione continued to write, disregarding the other three people in the room. Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked to each other in their disappointment. Their chance to help the troubled girl had gone up in smoke. Hermione's chance to willingly receive redemption had been taken.

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**(A/N): Tricked ya, didn't I? Ooh...so close. Well, it's getting close until the readers find out the REAL truth behind Hermione's strange behavior. If you have questions, or would like to guess anything, you are all free to do so. You can review too, if you want...(hint,hint) :) I don't know when the next chapter will be up, but definitely before the end of the month...**


	8. Take Me Home

**(A/N): I know it's been a while since I've updated. Remember that I went on that trip and I was gone a month? Well, my mom grounded me because I left three weeks of homework to do the weekend before I had to go back to school. And the more I do stuff she doesn't like, the more she keeps adding to my groundage...by MONTHS. Not just that but I found that I had hit a wall. This has been a very difficult chapter to write, so I am sorry for the delay. Besides, you wouldn't want me to write crappy chapters just to get them out sooner, would you? I didn't think so.**

**I noticed something as I went back to re read my story. Diary of a Songbird has so many flaws, I don't understand how so many people are reading it, and liking it. I noticed that in Chapter 6, I said that Harry and Ron met Malfoy in the pub, he was dusting himself off, but in Chapter 5, I clearly wrote that Malfoy went to Knockturn Alley after being punched by Hermione. There are a few other mistakes that I have made, contradicting facts that I put in earlier chapters, such as Hermione's age. She is 17 and will be 18 in my story but in the first chapters, I put she was 18 going on 19. I am sorry about this, and I will fix those mistakes. When I do fix that, it will not interfere with the plot or any of your basic knowledge of the story so you won't have to re read it if you don't want to. Anyway, I would like to thank:**

**Chewy518: I'm glad you like my story...Does your screen name have anything to do with Chewbacca? I am a HUGE Star Wars fan as well as a Harry Potter fan...**

**Samara Potter: Thank you for your encouragement. I have to say, I laughed when I read this review...Hermione _is_ a bit scary isn't she? Do you have any ideas as to why she is behaving this way? I have left so many clues that I think everyone can figure it out, but I'd like to hear your ideas.**

**Disclaimer: I am not making any money off of this story because Harry Potter and Co. are not mine. That would be stealing if I was getting money, wouldn't it?**

**(EDIT): 7/10/06--I would like to thank my beta** Lyndsie Fenele **for her beta work. Any mistakes are from my own tinkering when I got the chapter back.**

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**Take Me Home:**

The next day Hermione woke in her room, finding Ginny awake and making her bed. She stretched under her covers, smiling and feeling completely content at how warm and comfortable she felt. She sighed contentedly, not looking forward to getting out of bed and starting her day. What if her day turned out as bad as the last one? Ginny looked up at Hermione from fluffing her pillow.

"I see you're awake now," she said a bit uneasily, remembering her friend's scary behavior just the other day.

Hermione nodded.

"Well, Mum, said we should all meet before nine, to eat breakfast then finish any shopping," she said, turning back to her cot and, now finished with the pillow, continued to fold back the blankets.

Hermione closed her eyes, pulling her blankets over her head, hoping she could fall back into her slumber. But it wasn't to be; since she had already awoken, she wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. Reluctantly she pulled the covers back and got out of the bed, leaving it untidy and unmade. She rummaged through her school trunk looking for some clothes to wear and changed. While putting her pajamas back into the trunk, she found the discarded sweater she had worn the previous day. Straightening again, she closed her eyes trying not to let her sight wander to the stain of blood on the one sleeve.

_Out of sight, out of mind._

_Today is going to be a better day_, she tried to assure herself.

"I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it," she whispered to herself as she folded the sweater back up and put it away.

"What was that?" Ginny asked, looking up from her tidy bed.

"Nothing!" Hermione said in a falsely bright voice. In truth, her psychiatrist had told her that if she looked in the mirror every morning and said this quote to herself, she would start to believe it. It had been awhile since Hermione had actually done what the good doctor had asked. She never really believed herself as she said it. Today she was in a much better mood, she would make an effort to be happy no matter what happened, but tomorrow...tomorrow was a different story. Lately, Hermione had been living from day to day, trying to focus on the 'now' and not on the future. She was unable to cope with situations throughout the day if she thought too far ahead.

Ginny eyed Hermione as she continued to whisper the mantra to herself. She was starting to worry about her friend, but as she stood and turned to face the redheaded girl, a real smile lighting her face and eyes, she noticed that today Hermione was in a better mood and pushed the worry to the back of her mind.

"Ready to go down to breakfast?" Ginny asked Hermione gently. She still wasn't sure how to treat her or how to act around her because of how touchy she was.

Hermione nodded and said readily, "Sure," but really, she wasn't sure. What would the day have in store for her today? Would she be able to be as happy as her mantra insisted? Would she be able to control her anger, distress, and cowardice? Thoughts like these always ran through her head when starting a new day. Her psychiatrist had told her thinking this way was unhealthy and would slow down her progress towards recovery. She didn't know exactly how to change the way she thought about herself and her life. If she worked hard enough, put enough effort into it, she knew she would be able to change these hurtful opinions and slowly recover the confidence she had lost a little over a year ago.

Ginny paused with her hand on the doorknob, studying Hermione with a critical and compassionate eye.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" She asked in a whisper Hermione could just barely make out. Hermione eyed the younger girl thoughtfully, as if trying to decide what and how much to say. For awhile she argued with herself in her mind, feeling completely overwhelmed with her dilemma, wanting to tell someone, to bear her soul. But her rational side only chided these thoughts; thinking to herself that Ginny would never understand. And when her mind contradicted that small statement, she ignored herself and took the easier path of not admitting anything she wasn't ready to tell.

"I know, Ginny. How about that breakfast?"

The rest of the day was spent in a whirl of shopping, laughing, arguments, and ice cream. After Hermione realized that she had already bought all of her supplies except the books, she screamed at Harry and Ron for telling her otherwise, though she wasn't truly angry. She had stored that memory easily next to the two of Malfoy in humiliating circumstances, loving the way that Ron had cowered as she screamed her throat hoarse and Harry's expression of stricken surprise and remorse. He really had no need to feel remorse at all, but she assumed that they had grown used to feeling guilty about making her angry. And Merlin knew nobody wanted to anger Hermione Granger anymore!

That night, as trunks were being packed and belongings collected, Mrs. Weasley screamed her throat hoarse as well, to the disturbance of the other boarders at the Leaky Cauldron Inn. To accurately describe the disarray of this packing, only one word could be used: chaos. Ginny's cat had escaped out of the rooms, running down stairs and startling the customers. As the two girls raced into the parlor chasing the pet, the owls got loose, flying straight into and nearly knocking down Mrs. Weasley from the top of the stairs. Besides all of that, Ron had gotten sick from eating for far longer than anyone else was willing to stay at the table, and regurgitating his dinner back onto Mr. Weasley's best pair of shoes. Tempers were high this night, yet Hermione was in a better mood than she had been in a long time. Plus, Malfoy had not been seen at all throughout the day, so while everyone else was snapping at each other, Hermione smiled cheerfully.

_See, life can be like this if you start your day positively..._

She slept peacefully that night, dreaming about cats screaming at owls, Ron being chased by a cheesecake and the same silver eyes that she had dreamed about the previous night watching her. Even knowing whose eyes they were, Hermione felt free to stare at her dream version of Malfoy's face and study the mysteries held there. In her dreams, she could read Malfoy like one of her beloved books and he caused no anxiety in her, no anger, no fear. She felt free from the unstable emotions that tied her to the diary; she felt truly alive, no matter what she dreamed about.

Sunlight awoke her the next morning, blinding her even with her eyes closed. She woke to a flurry of movement, flashes of red hair darting all over the room. Ginny was already awake and racing around trying to gather all of the belongings she had failed to pack the day before. Hermione rubbed her eyes, realizing how groggy she felt. Maybe dreaming about so many different things that night had caused her grogginess; usually, when her internal clock woke her up every morning, Hermione was up right away and it was impossible for her to go back to sleep. Today she felt like she actually would have drifted off had she pulled the blankets over her head and closed her eyes. Groaning, she did just that.

"HERMIONE! Wake up! IT'S TEN-THIRTY!" Ginny screamed, shaking Hermione roughly.

At this she sat up in bed, bolt upright. "TEN-THIRTY? HOW CAN IT BE TEN-THIRTY?" She immediately jumped out of bed and threw on the clothes she had laid out the previous night and rushed into the hall with a bag of cosmetics to the bathroom shared by the tenants on that floor. First she pulled out her hair brush and groomed her now tamable masses of hair until they were sleek and shiny. Then she applied her minimum amount of makeup: lip gloss, mascara, and eye shadow. (When first venturing into the makeup world, Jessica and Adrian showed her that she had a natural blush about her cheeks and didn't require this particular product.) She looked into the mirror and was satisfied when she didn't cringe at the sight.

"I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it...I, not events, have the power to make me..." she chanted to her reflection, a look of pure determination staring straight into her own eyes. When she believed the words she left the room, throwing her cosmetics bag back into her trunk and thanking the gods that she had the sense to shower at night. If they hurried, they might not miss the train.

"Hurry now! Hurry up!" Mrs. Weasley called, banging on all of the doors of the rooms her family occupied. Everyone met in the dining parlor, eyes bright and bodies alert. No one was the least bit tired anymore, or if they were, they were more concerned about catching their train than the hours of sleep they might have missed. Mrs. Weasley stood in front of the group, graying strands of red hair astray from a tight bun she had attempted. Hermione checked the watch on her wrist for the time: ten forty-five.

"Alright then! I think the best thing to do is for you three," she pointed to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "to Apparate to the platform and Arthur and I can get Ginny there." She swiped at some of her loose hair hanging in her face and took a deep breath, exhaling quickly. "Yes, I do believe that would be best."

"What about our stuff, Mum?" Ron asked stupidly—well, Hermione thought it was a stupid question.

"Ron, you can shrink the trunk and carry it in your pocket! PLEASE, don't tell me that you couldn't think of that yourself!" Hermione answered in agitation as Mrs. Weasley had opened her mouth in reply. She was already shrinking her own trunk and stuffing it in her pocket with apparent irritation. Ron looked at the floor with an ashamed look on his face. Suddenly, his head snapped up to glare at Hermione, realizing the insult in her comment and indignant that she was getting snappy at him for asking an honest question. What ever happened to that saying, 'the only stupid questions are the ones not asked'?

Hermione straightened her clothes, smoothing wrinkles from her hoody and patting her hair down. Finished with her ministrations, she straightened again and gave Harry and Ron an imperious look. "Well? Let's go!" she said impatiently. With a loud _CRACK_ she had Disapparated to Platform 9 ¾, where the Hogwarts Express would depart for the school in thirteen minutes. Smoke billowed from the steam engine's smoke stack, the smell of coal and soot lingering in the air. Excited young faces mingled with sad older ones: children aged eleven to seventeen ecstatic to be returning back to school, and their parents or guardians, sad that they would have to part with their family until at least Christmas break.

Hermione could see familiar faces throughout the crowd. She saw Neville Longbottom looking around embarrassed that his Gran was clinging to him tightly, whispering what would seem to be advice into his ear. Parvati and Padma Patil—twin sisters, Padma in Ravenclaw and Parvati in Gryffindor—hugged and kissed their parents as they sniffled a bit. Hermione also saw Susan Bones from Hufflepuff—and, separated from the masses, that cow, Pansy Parkinson. Parkinson was talking to her parents; her mum had the same blonde hair and her dad the same pug face. She found that if she looked harder, the expression on their faces didn't look sad at all, in fact, the Parkinson seniors looked at their daughter with their noses in the air. It reminded her of the way Malfoy's mum had looked at him at the Quidditch World Cup the summer before fourth year.

Speaking of Malfoy...Hermione scanned the faces for familiar cold eyes, for platinum blond hair, for a supercilious look, and even though she found several supercilious looks, not one of them was housed on Malfoy's face. She let out a sigh of relief—not even aware that she had been holding her breath—as she realized that he wasn't there yet. Two loud cracks on either side of her told her that Harry and Ron had _finally_ decided to show up. She crossed her arms, turning to the two boys, but really couldn't find it in her heart to chastise either of them. They hadn't missed the train, so no harm done. The others arrived through the portal into King's Cross Station just a few minutes later. Now with a little less than ten minutes (Hermione thanked Merlin, Circe, _and_ Morgana for the miracle of actually making the train), the four teenagers boarded the train and found a compartment for themselves in the back—one of the last free ones. They got back off and on to the platform to bid their goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Have a good year, you three." Mrs. Weasley said to the three elder students. "Make this year count since it's your last, but don't have _too_ much fun." She said the last part while looking pointedly at Ron.

"WHY do you always look at me?" he asked miserably. The four received several hugs from Mrs. Weasley and hearty handshakes from Mr. Weasley before they boarded the train again. Settling into their compartment, they waved out of their window to the two people who were the most like parents to Harry, second parents to Hermione, and actual parents to Ron and Ginny. They could see Mrs. Weasley still dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief even as they pulled out of the station. And when King's Cross could not be seen anymore, all four let out a unanimous sigh of relief at going back to school, though Hermione felt a pang of loss that this would be her last year. Vaguely, she wondered what the year would bring.

Random talk passed between the comrades for hours before the plump witch pushing the food trolley stopped by. Harry treated them all to Pumpkin Pasties, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and Chocolate Frogs. Even Hermione collected the cards from her Chocolate Frogs as a memento from her last return ride on the Hogwarts Express. Their talk started up again and soon, Hermione was asking about Harry and Ginny's relationship.

"Why didn't you guys tell me you got together?"

Harry sat beside Ginny with Ron and Hermione across from them. The entire ride their hands had barely been apart, and now they shared a look before answering the question.

"Well..." Harry tried to answer.

"We didn't think this was something to just send in a letter," Ginny said, finding the words that Harry had trouble finding.

"I wanted to tell you in person," he added.

Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly proud at this. She found that she liked the idea that even after all that she had said in her blind anger towards all of them over the year, her opinion still mattered to them. Her cheeks blushed lightly as she asked, "But, Harry, when did you finally ask her out? I mean, it took you long enough!" Ron sat beside Hermione nodding his head strongly with his eyes bulged, as if to completely agree with her. He had definitely always preferred Harry as his little sister's boyfriend than some of the other boys she had gone out with over the years.

Ginny laughed as she tightened her hold on Harry's hand. Harry blushed at what was quickly seeming more and more like an interrogation, though he knew that he was obliged to tell her. It wasn't like any of what he would say was a secret.

"I—I first started noticing, _really noticing_, her last year, but what with Sirius's death, I didn't feel up to any relationship stuff. Especially after that disaster with Cho." All the while, he looked straight into Ginny's eyes, and with the serious look on both of their faces, it looked like that was the first time Ginny had heard what he was saying. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other. They felt as if they were witnessing an intimate moment and thought they might have been intruding even though Harry was answering Hermione's question.

"Then we were at the Burrow, and I couldn't stand seeing her everyday without saying anything." Ginny sucked in her breath at the smoldering look in Harry's eyes. With his free hand, he stroked the nape of her neck softly. Hermione and Ron's discomfort grew, until they were both fidgeting in their seats. Harry broke his eye contact with his girlfriend and smiled sheepishly at Hermione. "I know it sounds corny, but that was truly the way I felt."

Hermione gave the couple a timid smile as she glanced at Ron warily. "How lovely; I think that sounds romantic." Ginny smiled at her in approval and planted a tender kiss on Harry's cheek. Again, Hermione felt like she was intruding on something intimate. "Maybe I'll go take a short walk," she said, standing from her seat and opening the compartment door. Neither Harry nor Ginny paid any notice to her leaving, but the pleading look in Ron's eyes said _please, don't leave me here!_ Hermione smiled at him tauntingly and stuck out her tongue in a teasing manner, but it was all in fun.

She entered the empty hall, the vibrations of the steam engine shaking the floor so that she had to steady herself before she could move on to the end of the train. Hermione stood outside leaning against the rail, watching as the countryside flew by. Darkness had descended; the moon and stars lit up the perpetually black sky. Just looking at the twinkling spots reminded her of Professor Dumbledore's kind twinkling blue eyes. And thinking about peoples' eyes, she was once again reminded of Malfoy's silvery cold ones. For some reason, she found herself again trying to decode their hidden meaning from memory, which she found extremely hard to do; it would have been easier to have the git standing in front of her.

'_Yeah, next time I see him, I'll force him to look me in the eye! I'll—I'll..._demand_ that he tell me his secrets!' _she thought to herself, bringing a half smirk-half grin to her face. Then out of nowhere, she giggled at the sheer hilarity of the situation that would arise if she actually had the courage to do just that, and wondered if he would answer her truthfully. She snorted; of course he wouldn't tell her the truth.

"Something _funny_, Mudblood?" drawled a silky voice behind her. She immediately stopped giggling to herself and wiped the lopsided smile from her face as her body stiffened. Turning around to face just the person she had been thinking about, she thought, _'Well...Grab him, Hermione! Make him tell you his secrets!' _but she was rooted to the spot, not wanting to have a negative confrontation that would lead to throwing up blood in the train bathroom. She had to stifle another bout of giggles at the thought of the look on Malfoy's face if she did go through with her plan...She could just imagine him looking at her like she was crazy.

But glancing at the superior look on his face, Hermione thought he was more likely to hex her or push her over the rail. She gulped, suddenly afraid that he was going to hurt her. There she was, outside alone with Draco Malfoy, where the only thing protecting her from falling off of the train was a rail. Her heart started to beat faster and her eyes widened in terror. Malfoy stood before her, blocking the door back onto the train, his arms folded across his chest in a nonchalant manner. His eyes were blazing with...well, Hermione couldn't tell. Was it a mixture of anger and amusement? What could he possibly be amused for? Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the tracks rushing under the Hogwarts Express. What did he want and where were Harry and Ron when she really needed them?

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**(A/N): Finally, some plot development! I know that this chapter is shorter than previous ones but this was the best place to stop for me. I realized I had been rambling a bit in the other chapters and at the beginning of this one, had started describing breakfast after Hermione woke up. I realized I was getting boring, so, I decided it was finally time to move on. Kudos to me, I guess. If anyone has any ideas about where I should go from here, I would love to hear them. Dumbledore should know how I despise writer's block! **

"**I, not events, have the power..." Quote by Groucho Marx.**


	9. The Songbird

**(A/N): I woke up the morning after I posted the last chapter, groggy, tired, eyes unfocused, and I was all ready to go back to sleep. But my addiction to the computer brought me downstairs and I got on. Checking my email, my breathing came out a little troubled when I found all of those reviews. Thank you so much! You don't know how happy I am! Makes me want to get this chapter out fast! Oh, and guess what else? This chapter has DRACO-NESS!**

**Ritsu-the-monkey a.ka. Mz122: Wow! What a name, but I think you changed it or something so this is to "My-Chemical-Romance-Fan". Ha, I have a friend who likes My Chemical Romance too. Oh, and I have regulars now! Very flattering that you think this is a good story! If that's true, you should like my second better! (That is if you like SS/HG and when I get it posted...) But don't worry about that one right now; it will be awhile before I decide it's ready to post.**

**Puffy Marshmallow: You love my story! Updating now and thank you!**

**MIDNIGHT-PIXIE: I was wondering if my characters were getting a bit OOC but I think you quelled that fear for me! Thank you!**

**Devillette: Wow...you really like it that much? I can't believe that...I've already started my other story as well (won't put it up until this story is through) and I like it a whole lot better than this one. So maybe you can see how I'm finding it really hard to believe I have so many reviews for only 9 chapters. That's more than I have seen for other, _longer,_ stories. How is _that_?**

**Gino Santangelo: Well, thank you!**

**Erica G.: Well, I guess I've left clues but I won't out and out say _entirely_ what happened to her until the gang is already back at school. **

**PrincessPotter: This is really one of the best stories you've read? Again, I just can't believe it...I'm glad to hear you are hanging on to every word, that's how I wanted my readers to be!**

**Chewy518: I agree about Anakin. Why are the hot guys the evil ones? WHY?**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. is not mine...:sighs:**

**(EDIT): 7/10/06—Thanks go to my beta **Lyndsie Fenele**. Any mistakes are from my own tinkering after I got the chapter back.

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**The Songbird:**

Sitting stiffly in a hardwood chair, Draco Malfoy tried not to look livid at his mum's playful banter with the Knockturn Alley shopkeeper. His father had been dead less than a year and she was already flirting with other men—of several levels of eligibility. Thank Merlin no one else was present in this shop, or Draco knew his family's name would be ruined. Not only were the notorious Malfoys _in_ a Knockturn Alley shop, but the Mistress Malfoy was even flirting with the stooped, missing-toothed shopkeeper! It was all disgusting behavior to Draco, and as much as he loved his mother, he couldn't help wonder if she was really that desperate for a shag or if there was an ulterior motive.

A high, tinny laugh pierced the quiet air of the store. "Oh, Mr. Barnaby, you jest!" Draco rolled his eyes but did not allow his impatience, annoyance, and anger to show on his face. He sat in that chair with a stiff back, trying to tune out his mother's annoying voice, but whenever his thoughts drifted, they shifted to an even worse subject.

Granger.

It was just an hour ago that she had punched him, and he had to admit, he was impressed. In their third year she had slapped him, but he hadn't thought she was capable of _punching_ him—there was quite a difference. Then thinking about the Mudblood, Draco wondered what had happened among the happy little trio that Potter and Weasel had to go look for her. He very much doubted they were playing hide-and-seek.

'_And now Potter thinks I'm going to corrupt his wand or something,'_ he thought almost gaily. He hadn't done anything to the wand, but he had found out what was in the center. That was all. He had no use for it anyway; he had a perfectly fine wand as it was.

"I wouldn't want to be caught with such items, so thank you for taking them off of my hands!" Narcissa Malfoy said flirtatiously while flipping her long blonde hair behind her shoulder.

"Come back again, Missus," the very interested Mr. Barnaby returned, tipping his hat and revealing all the teeth he _didn't_ have through his smile. Narcissa giggled again in her annoying metallic way.

"Come, Draco!" she said, already walking out the door and leaving Draco in the chair by the counter. Draco stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets, grudgingly following his mother back onto the street. Shoppers again pushed and shoved at the young heir, but if they had known who they were running into, the shoppers definitely wouldn't have nearly assaulted him. The mistress Malfoy was tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for Draco on a side street to Disapparate back to their manor.

"You know, Draco, it should have been you in there handling business. Next time, don't sit there like a fool, pay attention! Maybe then you can do something right for this family. For once," she scolded derisively.

"Yes, Mother," he acknowledged in a bored, resigned sort of voice, but instead of listening to her only son, Narcissa Disapparated. Sighing, Draco did the same.

The Malfoy manor was guarded by ten foot tall gate surrounding the hill it rested on. A paved road lined with yew trees led from the front gate to the front door. As Draco Apparated outside of the gate, his mum was lifting the wards and heading up the road, leaving her son behind once again. He scowled at the retreating back, and hurried his pace so that he was walking by her side.

"What was with that disgusting behavior back there?" he asked her in an accusing tone. Narcissa turned on her heel to face her son, glaring at him in a way that could match Severus Snape's.

"Don't you _dare_ talk to me like that, Draco! I am your mother and you will speak to me as such!" she whispered lethally. Sometimes, Draco thought he would prefer his mother screaming at him rather than her deathly angry whisper, but she had never yelled at him before in his life. Lucius had been the disciplinarian, but he had never bothered to lay a hand on him. Draco didn't think his father had cared enough to bother raising a son. He had always been expected to just live up to the expectations left for him.

"Sorry, Mum," he said, bowing his head in shame. "Never mind then. I know that you know best." She smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. He stood at least three inches taller than her so she had to reach up to plant a loving kiss on his cheek.

"You're a good boy, Draco. Mr. Barnaby wouldn't have taken your father's possessions if I hadn't led him to believe that he might get something out of it in the end. Like I said, you should start handling family business; you are the man of the house and have all obligations to the money." She said the last sentence with a bit of bitterness in her tone. The wizarding world had more of a medieval outlook on women, and as of modern laws, the oldest man in the family handled all business and money. They continued to walk on in silence, both thinking their own thoughts.

"I love you, Draco," Narcissa said quietly. Draco turned to look at her as they continued to walk. Silver eyes met blue and she smiled, laughing a real laugh that was light and pleasant; not metallic sounding at all. She wrapped her arm around her son's waist lovingly.

"Yeah, okay," he said, his eyes turning cold and hardening. He didn't push his mother away, but he didn't relax into her embrace, either. Narcissa's laughter faded and her smile slipped from her face. She longed for the day when her son would say those words. Lucius had taught him at a young age that professing love was a sign of weakness and had never once told her that he loved her; since she had been in an arranged marriage, she doubted Lucius _had_ loved her. That was one lesson Draco had learned very well. Even as a little boy, Draco had never said the words 'I love you' to _anyone_.

Only a couple of days later, Draco was rushing to get to Platform 9 3/4. It was very uncharacteristic for a Malfoy to be late..._and_ to rush, on second thought. He had to consciously slow his movements as he shrunk his trunk and Disapparated with his mum. Narcissa turned to her son upon Apparating and gave him a tight hug. Draco squirmed and glared at her, hoping that no one saw him hug his mother back.

"Draco, could you please try to get to know Pansy? It would make things so much easier when you propose to her at graduation," she asked of him, ignoring the disgusted sneer on his face. "I'm sure she's really quite a dear."

"Sure, Mum," Draco said with indifference, knowing that he would avoid Pansy as best as he could and shag as many other girls as was possible in nine and a half months. Then he would buy her the largest rock of a ring Diagon Alley had to sell and propose to Pansy after graduation to her "surprise and shock". Obviously she knew about the arranged marriage as well but he could already hear her excited squealing.

He was disgusted at the thought of spending his entire life with Pansy. Of _sleeping _in the same bed as her among _other_ things.

Draco found his mother had left his side and was talking to the Parkinsons. Pansy was looking around, searching the crowd–most likely for Draco. Looking for a place to hide from the pug-faced girl, Draco sprinted behind a group of discarded luggage carts, crouching down to keep his body from view. Now he could scan the crowd himself without the threat of being seen.

He hadn't scanned very long before he spotted the new but familiar backside of Hermione Granger. His eyes roamed hungrily over her slight form—from her sleek, wavy hair to her small waist and her round hips. She wore jeans that seemed to cling to her body, a small shirt that barely reached the waistband of her pants and those same purple shoes. Her foot tapped the stone floor impatiently and she seemed to search the crowd as well. Her shoulders were tense and her entire body was stiff but after another few seconds, she seemed to relax. She turned her head a bit and he could make out the profile of her face: her rosy cheeks, and the peak of her nose.

_Beautiful._

WHAT? He did NOT just think that. She's a _Mudblood_ for crying out loud! He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear his mind of such thoughts. No matter how good she looked on the outside, the inside was dirty and rotten.

Tainted.

Impure.

_Not _Malfoy material.

He reopened his eyes to find Potter and Weasley standing on either side of her. Granger's arms were crossed as if she were ready to scold them like an angry mother.

'_Well, good luck to them!' _he thought sarcastically. In the six years that he had known Granger, he had become quickly vexed with her incessant..._do-goody-ness­_, always saying something was right or wrong...blah, blah, blah...So after six years of seeing the girl _every day_, he supposed Potter and Weasley would have been even more annoyed by it than he. But who knew with those two dingbats?

Then, three more redheads hurried through the portal from the Muggle part of King's Cross and straight towards the three Gryffindors. Wait, they were _all _Gryffindors: Potter, Granger, and the four Weasleys. _Duh!_ As the four younger _Gryffindors_ boarded the train to look for a compartment, Draco darted from his hiding spot to the train as well, searching for Crabbe and Goyle, who had the biggest silhouettes through the glass. Opening the door to a compartment near the back of the train, he plopped into the seat opposite the two beefy Slytherins with an exaggeratedly loud sigh of mock exhaustion.

"Gods. This day is droning on forever! I just want to get back to my bed and go to sleep." he said to no one in particular. Crabbe and Goyle just laughed as if he had told a joke, poking each other in the ribs with their elbows.

"Back to bed to sleep? Or to _sleep_?" Goyle asked stupidly, guffawing idiotically.

"What are you talking about, Goyle?" Draco asked, his eyebrows scrunched up as he tried to figure out what his friend meant.

Crabbe chuckled and answered instead. "Do you want to sleep, or _sleep_?"

Draco opened his mouth and shook his head, the expression on his face showing how stupid he thought the two boys were. "What in the hell are you _talking about_?"

Goyle again. "Are you ready to sleep or have girls in your bed?" As far as the oaf knew, Draco had brought a different girl to his bed in the dormitory every week; on those nights, he would have his bed curtains drawn, warded, and silenced. Or so they were told.

"Oh. Why didn't you say that in the first place then?" he asked. Really, Draco had only ever slept with one girl before and that was Pansy Parkinson. It was a sixth year thing and it only happened once. He had realized his mistake when afterwards Pansy wouldn't leave him alone for anything. Every time she saw him she saw fit to jump him and pummel his face with her wet kisses. "No, stupids, I'm too tired to have any fun tonight." And as if to prove this point he opened his mouth wide and yawned, using his hand to cover his mouth in a Malfoy-like manner.

For the first few hours of the trip, Draco was able to drift into a light sleep, but then again, he always slept light. Another life lesson from the ever sneaky Lucius; this allowed that he would never be surprised by an attack, even while in slumber. The food trolley had passed and Crabbe and Goyle had seen fit to ask Draco for money for food. When he had awoken, he found that the two giant lumps had even eaten the provisions he had asked they get for him as they waited for Draco to wake. Now he was tired, irritable, and hungry.

"I'm going for a walk." But his words fell on deaf ears. Crabbe and Goyle ignored him as he left the compartment; both of them were still stuffing their faces with Pumpkin Pasties and magical jelly beans. Draco decided to head for the end of the train and get a breath of fresh air. As he approached the door, he saw someone already standing outside through the glass. Darkness had fallen and he could just make out the figure of a girl standing against the rail; her head was tilted to the sky looking at the heavens.

_Just beautiful..._

The door did not make a single sound as he opened it slowly, trying not to startle the girl. Now, standing directly behind her, Draco realized with a sinking heart who exactly she was. He had only seen her new made-over form twice, but he had her image committed to memory. The force of the cool night air lifted and swayed Granger's smooth hair lazily around her head, pushing the long strands away from her face. Draco was a bit surprised when she suddenly giggled; her voice rang lightly like the clear sound of a bell. Her smooth, sweet tone seemed to lift Draco's dampened spirits, his hunger and fatigue forgotten, and for some reason it reminded him of the soft chirping of a songbird. Just from listening to her short laugh, his heart seemed to dance and he forgot the difference in their parentage. With the wind lightly swirling her hair about her head and her peaceful aura, he thought she might have even been able to fly like a petite mockingbird. Then she snorted in amusement and he shook his head, clearing his mind of his stupid foolishness.

He crossed his arms over his chest to make himself look more confident and intimidating. Well, that was the look he was going for, anyway. "Something _funny_, Mudblood?"

The physical effects of his words were immediate. Granger's whole body stiffened as she turned around. He immediately noticed the frightened and nervous look in her large brown eyes. She looked over her shoulder at the ground as it sped behind the train, and he noted that she must have been afraid that he would push her over the rail. But he wasn't going to. If he did that, what kind of fun would he miss out on when they had Head duties together? This year, he was sure he would have a lot of fun baiting and taunting her; they _would_ be spending more quality time together as they did their rounds around the school, checking for students out past curfew. Unless the "exciting news" Dumbledore had for them was something along the lines of separate duties and rounds. But knowing Albus Dumbledore, and he _was_ pretty easy to read, Draco thought that this was unlikely.

"M-M-Malfoy," she stuttered. He couldn't help but think how adorable she looked when she was frightened.

_Wait a minute..._adorable_? What's wrong with me? She is _not _adorable. Mudblood, Mudblood, MUDBLOOD!_

"I asked you a question, Granger. I expect an answer."

She blushed.

Blushed? What was wrong with _her, _now? She turned her head away from him as her eyes looked everywhere else except at him.

"I...I..." she started to mumble, but then she looked up at him, her eyes revealing the fire of anger that she was feeling. "I don't have to tell you anything, you stupid ferret. It's none of _your_ business what I find amusing and what I don't." Granger tried to push past Draco to go back inside but he grabbed her arm tightly above her elbow. She looked at him as if she wasn't sure to be angry or scared; her expression alternated between fright and a scowl.

"You never talk to your superiors like that and _never_ walk away from me. You might find yourself in trouble," he threatened her as he let go of her arm. She glared at him as if she were going to say something and thought better of it. As she passed him, Draco could smell her hair. She seemed to be consumed by the scent, though he hadn't noticed it until she was that close. He grabbed her arm again, stopping her as he identified the fragrance.

Slightly tropical...melon-y...sweet and fruity.

He supposed the scent came from her shampoo. She had opened her mouth to admonish him for grabbing her again when he had let go once more. Her eyes showed her confusion and irritation but she left without questioning him, and before he could grab her again. Draco watched her back through the glass of the door as she entered a compartment near the one Crabbe and Goyle were currently occupying. Turning back to watch the darkness surrounding the train, his thoughts swirled in his mind in a confused cluster of opinions and rules. All of the thoughts that had popped into his head about Hermione Granger in three days seemed to contradict everything Lucius had taught him when he was younger and everything he had believed to be true. For once in his life, he had to remind himself that she was inferior to him in order for him to act normally. Why did she do that to him? Was there something wrong with him?

Draco wasn't sure how long he stood outside in the contemplative quiet. He entered the train again and found Granger walking along the corridor knocking on compartment doors; she had already changed into her school robes.

"Any first years in here?" she asked but finding none, she continued to the next compartment and asked again. She seemed to have found new students for she entered the compartment halfway and said, "I'm Hermione Granger, your Head Girl. We're almost to Hogwarts so you should probably change now." Then she would shut the door and move on. Draco smirked at her Gryffindor sense of responsibility. He decided to let her continue what she had started and just hang out in his compartment for the rest of the ride. She didn't seem to need his help; everything appeared to be under control.

He returned to his compartment and found Crabbe and Goyle sleeping; Goyle perched against the window and Crabbe against the other oaf's body. Draco took this time to change into his school robes and pinned his Head Boy badge over his breast, just underneath the Hogwarts coat of arms. Slapping the two boys awake, he told them to change as well and sat down again, waiting for the train to stop. Looking out the window, he could see the lights of the castle atop a cliff and he suddenly felt the relief at being back at school. Contrary to popular belief, Draco did enjoy being at Hogwarts, even if he disapproved of the Headmaster and the certain students he played favorites with.

The night was warm with a cool blowing in from the lake. Through the darkness, a lantern could be seen swinging nearly a foot above the taller students' heads as the groundskeeper, Hagrid, collected the first years to take across the lake to Hogwarts. Draco managed to obtain a carriage for the three Slytherins without kicking anyone out of it first and settled back for the ride, once again feeling the fatigue and hunger from earlier though the annoyance had dissipated.

Almost as soon as he had sat down at the Slytherin house table in the Great Hall, Pansy Parkinson had planted herself next to him, squealing all the while and forcing Crabbe and Goyle to sit across from the two of them. Draco rolled his eyes as she grabbed his neck and pulled him to her to plant one of her sloppy kisses on his forehead. Pushing her away, he growled and wiped her saliva from his face, then smoothed back his slick hair.

"Draco! I haven't seen you in days! Have you missed me poorly?" and on and on. Draco tuned out her mindless drabble, preferring to just nod his head at odd moments giving his _dear_ Pansy the illusion that he was paying attention. Instead, Draco opted to scan the Great Hall for the "usual" people.

At the head table, the professors sat observing the rowdy students. Every teacher had a look of amusement in some form or another (most likely actually looking forward to the new school year) on their relatively old faces, except Professor Snape, the dark man at the farthest end of the table who glared at everyone who had the audacity to even glance his way. Draco smirked at his Head of House's _enthusiasm_ for teaching. Why did he even stay? He had known that Snape was a spy for Dumbledore during the war and even though his father had been most displeased (to say the least), Draco still admired the man; mainly just for his favoritism of Slytherins and animosity towards Potter, Granger, and Weasley. He understood that the main reason he taught at all was to return the favor for Dumbledore or something like that. So with the Dark Lord gone, there was no need to stay, was there?

Draco continued to scan the rest of the hall, his eyes falling on Granger's slim form. She sat on the side of the Gryffindor table with her back facing him, but he could still see her body shake as she laughed, and, unfortunately, Potter and Weasley laughing with her across from her. Her light brown hair shimmered with gold strands in the light from the candles hovering high above everyone's heads. Unsure if what he was seeing was true, Draco shook his head and looked around. No one else had shining hair in the blunt light, and as he looked at Granger again, he noticed her hair didn't look golden anymore either. Now, he was just confused. All day, his mind had betrayed and tricked Draco. He thought the exhaustion and hunger was finally getting to him.

He noticed the whole hall had become quiet as McGonagall placed a stool in front of the head table with an old patched hat perched upon it. She stepped away from the Sorting Hat and it began to sing.

_A thousand years ago_

_When the world was surely parted_

_Four friends came together_

_And that's how Hogwarts started_

_The best of friends they all were_

_With separate interests for their students_

_Such as Rowena's thirst of knowledge_

_And Helga's undivided prudence_

_Salazar was more selective_

_For his students' blood was pure_

_Godric valued bravery_

_And a mind and heart that's sure_

_Though all students have these qualities_

_Of different levels and amounts_

_All of their personalities differ_

_With the dominant value surmount_

_So here I am to do my job_

_And place you in the house_

_That is most like you and you like it_

_Never let the fire of learning douse_

_But while I divide you_

_I think it best to say_

_That Hogwarts was once a school for all_

_No animosity in the fray_

_There was a time when Godric_

_And Salazar were friends_

_Not to mention Helga and Rowena_

_Their friendships had no end_

_As soon as Slytherin left_

_Leaving Hogwarts in dispute_

_Things never were the same again_

_Their hard work became moot_

_I hope this year, even though_

_The danger is gone for now,_

_That you take it upon yourselves_

_To make friendships and avow_

_No matter which Hogwarts house_

_These new friends belong to_

_I hope you make an effort_

_To keep them, pure and true_

_Hopefully, you'll take heed and_

_Inter-house friends you'll obtain_

_I've said my piece so you decide_

_If this rivalry shall remain_

The applause for the Sorting Hat was polite if not confused. In their fifth year, the hat had warned the school of danger and said that if Hogwarts was to survive, the students had to stand united. It seemed that it was preaching the same song again even though He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was gone, and Draco didn't like it one bit. He looked towards the Gryffindor table and sneered as he saw the trio looking back at him, sharing the same look of disgust. Really, the feeling was mutual; there was no way Draco was going to make friends with students from other houses, least of all Gryffindors. He didn't need friends anyway; Crabbe and Goyle were sufficient enough lackeys, and he didn't need any more. What exactly were friends for? What was so great about having them?

The Sorting continued as Draco mused and before he knew it, Dumbledore was inviting everyone to eat; which was a good thing too because the Great Hall had started to spin and he was becoming dizzy with famine. That morning, he had been running late so he hadn't had enough time to eat a proper breakfast. He immediately dove for the food, not caring that he was acting very unsophisticated. His father was dead so he would never know what a disgrace he was making the Malfoy name. But at the thought of how his mother would react if she found out about his pig-like behavior, he forced himself to slow his movements and collected food politely. His head pounded as he grabbed a chicken leg and sunk his teeth into the tender meat, tearing all of the chicken off of the bone and chewing it ravenously. There was not a single pause between the foodstuffs and by the time he had finished an entire flan at dessert, he was stuffed full. Draco couldn't believe he had eaten so much, and looking at Parkinson's astonished face, it seemed she couldn't believe it either.

Draco made himself comfortable as the tables cleared and Dumbledore stood to give his 'Beginning of Term' speech.

"Friends! Faculty! Students! Welcome back to Hogwarts! It is my pleasure to say that this year, we will be able to enjoy learning," He glanced among the student audience. "and teaching," He scanned the professors at the head table. "without fear of Voldemort." It seemed as if most of the school saddened or shuddered simultaneously at mention of the Dark Lord's name. Many people had lost friends or family in the past war, Draco's father included, though he wasn't sure how he felt about that yet.

"I would like to congratulate this year's batch of Prefects, and am quite certain they will be enthusiastic in their duties. Stand up, stand up! Let us look at you!" Twenty-four students stood from their house tables; some students blushing and a bit self-conscious while others seemed to thrive in the attention of the polite applause. Each house provided six Prefects, two per year for fifth, sixth, and seventh years, and each year providing a boy and a girl. Draco smirked as he noticed that Potter hadn't been made a Prefect but Weasley had.

Dumbledore continued as the new Prefects sat down, "We should also congratulate our new Head Girl, Hermione Granger," Draco noticed the applause for Granger was more than polite. The Gryffindor table was cheering and whistling, making a big ruckus that seemed to depress the Slytherins. Granger smiled a bit and blushed at the attention and remained standing, facing the Headmaster and the head table. He couldn't wait to see her face in a few seconds... "and our Head Boy, Draco Malfoy!"

Draco stood from his seat and smirked, looking directly at Granger as she slowly turned to face him. Her eyes were wide in shock and her mouth formed a thin line. He nearly laughed at the expression on her face. The other three house tables joined in booing the Head Boy, which drowned out the sound of the Slytherins' applause and table pounding. It didn't matter to Draco; just seeing Granger's shocked face had been worth it. As the 'cheering' died down, the two students sat; he had not failed to notice the scowl that resided on the girl's face while doing so.

Continuing again, "Yes, yes...I think we shall see great things come from our Heads this year! I wish to speak to the both of you after dinner, if you don't mind...Now, must I remind you that the Forbidden Forrest is forbidden...?" Draco tuned out the rest of the speech, barely noting Dumbeldore's agreement with the Sorting Hat. Soon the Great Hall had started to clear and he stood to join Granger at the head table.

Her arms were crossed defiantly and she scowled as he came to stand beside her. Draco rested his hands in his robe pockets and smirked, feeling very much better now that he had eaten but was still tired and wanted to get back to the Slytherin dormitories and just sleep for hours. Dumbledore stood in front of them, behind the table that the professors were still occupying. The tiny Professor Flitwick left the table and reached up to squeeze Granger's shoulder before saying, "At least it's not one of mine." Granger's brows furrowed in confusion as she watched the tiny man leave the Great Hall. Draco had to say, he was as clueless as she. All of the professors left the hall, each one squeezing one of Hermione Granger's arms comfortingly, affording themselves confused looks from both students, until only Professors Snape and McGonagall remained. Both of their faces were grim and neither seemed very happy about what was going to happen. Granger turned to Dumbledore and opened her mouth to ask what was going on but the old man put a hand up to stop her. His eyes twinkled mirthfully...mischievously, Draco thought...and a benign smile lit his face, smoothing out some of the wrinkles around the corners of his mouth and eyes. Draco pulled his hands out of his pockets and crossed them over his chest so that now four out of the five people standing there didn't look too happy. Whenever the Headmaster's eyes twinkled, Draco knew it was a time to be wary.

"I have to ask before we begin, if you understood the meaning of the Sorting Hat's song this year?" Dumbledore asked. The Head Boy and Girl nodded their heads. "Good then! This is the school year starting a new era in the wizarding world; Voldemort is no more and we do not have to fear the Dark any longer." Draco _definitely_ didn't like where this was going. His stomach started to churn as if it knew what were about to happen beforehand and was ready to discharge his dinner once the words were said aloud. "My plan for this year is to promote unity among the school: all of the students, classes, and houses. It seems as if the Sorting Hat was thinking along the same lines," he chuckled to himself but his amusement was not spread to the other four people around him.

"What are you getting at, Professor?" Granger asked. Curiosity must have been killing her. What must it be like for a 'know-it-all' not to know something?

"I'm glad you asked, my dear! To get right down to it, I have arranged for the Head Boy and Girl to have their own dormitories on a different floor from your house common rooms. That should give you sufficient enough privacy for your studies and Head duties." Granger let out a relieved sigh, the tension she had portrayed in her body let loose. It seemed as if she had been expecting the worst, but Draco was still suspicious and the two Head of Houses were still grim as ever. Something just wasn't right…

"But, what's the catch?" he asked warily.

"Oh, so you noticed something amiss?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes still gleaming in amusement. He actually chuckled again. Draco scowled at the old fool. "Right well, you two will have separate dormitories but to aid the promotion of inter-house unity, your dorms are connected with a shared common room."

Granger and Draco paled, but while her eyes opened wider in shock again, he scowled. It took approximately five seconds before the words sank in and then the two were outraged.

"WHAT?" they screamed in unison.

McGonagall's and Snape's scowls deepened as Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle—with no doubt in Draco's mind—mischievously.

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**(A/N): Wow, longest chapter yet! I know the shared common room thing may have been overly done and blah, blah, blah. Tired of it? Just stop reading now, then. Not changing it. No, there will be no cliché scene where Draco walks in on Hermione showering or vice versa. I think that has just been written so much that it's killed though I'm not saying that stories with that particular element in it are bad. Absolutely not, I'm just trying to assure my readers that I will not be too predictable in this story. Which I don't really think the story is predictable, is it? I would also like to say that I never really expected to put the Sorting Hat's song in here but I did and I would appreciate it if no one reused it without asking first. It took me maybe over an hour to write it and yes, I did write it all by myself. And I'm sorry that the double space makes the chapter seem really long. Does anyone know how to take out the double space, at least for songs and poems and whatnot (hehe, inside joke!)?This chapter has definitely caught up on all the Draco action we've missed and I was really happy with the outcome. We start to learn more about Draco's relationship (according to me) with his mom, and he starts having those disturbing thoughts (disturbing for him anyway :P) that contradict his upbringing. Anyway, it's review time! I made sure to write a bit everyday so I hope you are as happy with this chapter as I am! If you have any suggestions for upcoming chapters, I would be happy to hear them!**


	10. United We Stand

**(A/N): I am dedicating thischapter to **MIDNIGHT-PIXIE** who reviewed like five minutes after I posted the last chapter. I was really amazed... I mean, really. I had been playing around, looking at how many hits my story had and when I refreshed the page, it said 44 reviews. I immediately went to my email account and there it was! Another review. I couldn't believe how fast you read that chapter.**

**I would also like to say that I was not just happy with chapter nine. I LOVED it. For some reason, I thought it was the best chapter in the entire story and it brought my enthusiasm for the story back again. It really was an important chapter and I was very happy with how I wrote it. I had been expecting a lot more reviews because there was a lot of Draco-ness, and who doesn't love Draco-ness? But I guess if I don't have reviews then there were no problems with the chapter?**

**Char: Of course I'm writing more! I am all revved up to get this story out now! It really is sweet, and a relief, for you to say the romance is coming along perfectly. That is the part of the story I am most worried about and I really didn't want to rush anything. **

**mrs. skywalker: Haha, I have a friend who says 'sexy beast' a lot. Yes, I love Star Wars even though my brother likes it more than I do (that's ok though). I loved Episode III except that it was too sad when Anakin gave in to Palpatine. Why did he get his arms and legs get cut off? WHY?**

**MIDNIGHT-PIXIE: You are just the best...sniffles...**

**(A/N): I would also like to thank **My-Chemical-Romance-Fan Babiblue754 **and** Puffy Marshmallow **for your reviews as well.**

**I would also like to say that I think this might be the last update until after Half Blood Prince. If I can get the eleventh chapter written and posted before the sixteenth, I will do so but if not, I'm just letting you know. Between the sixteenth of July and the time I finish reading the book, I do not plan to use the internet at all. There is going to be NO way I will spoil HBP for myself and since I pre-ordered the book, I have no idea when it will arrive. It took me four days to read OotP so it shouldn't take to long to read the sixth book. I just wanted to let y'all know, so give me about a week after the sixteenth and I will try to post again.**

**Disclaimer: Tenth time is a charm...maybe when I hit fourteen it will actually be true but, no, Harry Potter and Co. is not mine.

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**United We Stand:**

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Albus Dumbledore, a man she had always respected highly and admired...did he just say she and Malfoy were going to live together? Maybe he hadn't said it in so many words but that's what it sounded like to her. She now knew why the Gryffindor and Slytherin Head of Houses hadn't looked too pleased with the headmaster. Blood rushed to her head until Hermione thought she would faint. Trying to prevent a dizzy spell, she turned her head slowly to look at Malfoy. His arms were uncrossed, his hands clenched into fists, and his eyebrows met in the center of his forehead creating a blond 'v' above his eyes. Instead of the usual sneer or smirk, his lips hung open a little so that she could tell that his jaws were clamped tightly closed. Even his breathing was harsh in his anger.

To put it simply, he looked livid.

"When I tell my father—!" he had begun to say.

"Tell, your _father_, Draco?" Snape finally spoke. Malfoy paled, seeming to remember that his father was dead.

"When—when I tell my _mother_, she will have something done! I promise you that, Dumbledore!" he corrected himself.

Then McGonagall spoke up as well, her lips creating a thin line with her mouth. "That's _Professor _Dumbledore to you, Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione couldn't help but feel sorry for him. She couldn't fathom _anyone_ liking Lucius Malfoy—_she_ definitely hadn't mourned his passing—but she did understand that Draco had lost his father. No one deserved to lose a parent, no matter who they were. Unless Lucius beat his son, but from observation she didn't think that was likely. Malfoy had been furious with Harry for naming Lucius as a Death Eater during fifth year, and even more so when Lucius went to Azkaban later that year. That didn't sound like the actions of an abused sixteen year old.

Professor Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle, to Hermione's annoyance. She realized that she was just as angry as the junior Malfoy; her face was no longer pale, she felt her cheeks start to color. If Harry and Ron could see her, they would know what trouble was coming; the storm of angry words that would be released from a voice like thunder. Obviously, she couldn't very well yell at her own teachers, to the authority figures of her life for the next nine months. She formed fists at her sides as well and was unaware of Malfoy's bemused expression as he watched her temper rise out of the corner of his eyes.

"_Professor_," she said through gritted teeth, "you can't expect us to live together!"

That _stupid chuckle_ again. This man was starting to grate on her nerves.

"You wouldn't really be living together, Ms. Granger. It's the same arrangement as if you were staying in Gryffindor Tower except with more privacy."

Hermione let out a deep breath through her mouth to try and calm herself down and mentally scoffed at the idea of having more privacy with Malfoy around all of the time. She counted to ten and opened her mouth to respond in a composed manner only to have her anger blow the words up in her face.

"I CAN'T STAY WITH HIM!"

All four people stared at her in astonishment for speaking in such a way with the headmaster.

"MS. GRANGER! If you do not calm yourself, I will be forced to take points from Gryffindor!" McGonagall said, clearly unsettled that her prized student could be so disrespectful.

Hermione opened her mouth as if to apologize or explain but more angry words escaped before she could do so.

"HE'LL KILL ME!" She clapped her hands over her mouth to abstain from speaking again. She looked to Malfoy with wide eyes just as unbelieving that she could yell at her teacher. Malfoy looked affronted at her statement, then angry, then slightly amused that she would dare to scream an excuse as appalling as that to the three highest authority figures of Hogwarts.

Snape could not keep quiet. Now he just _had _to say something in the defense of his precious Slytherin.

"Ms. Granger, I highly doubt that Mr. Malfoy will kill you. He could go to Azkaban for such a deed."

"Like that ever stopped his father!"

_Damn, Hermione...Why can't you just shut up?_

Malfoy didn't like that, _not at all_. He took a menacing step towards her and grabbed her arm. Her other hand remained over her mouth, afraid of throwing up more blood and what he would do if he were in her line of fire. She had a desperate desire to apologize sincerely, something she would have done to anyone else, but she knew that she had meant what she said. He did not deserve anything from her: not an apology, not pity, condolences, or even the time of day. He deserved nothing. But she did realize that her anger was actually covering her fear. What would an entire year of close proximity to this young man do for her emotionally induced reactions? She released her mouth to pat her pocket for her diary though knowing it was still there did not ease her unease.

"Mr. Malfoy, please let go of Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said wearily. He didn't look as happy about his new plan as he had been just a few minutes earlier. Malfoy squeezed her wrist tightly before letting go and crossing his arms again. "Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, this arrangement is not debatable. Now, shall I show you to your rooms?"

She nodded and slowly swirled the diary around and around the wooly material of the pocket of her robes. Malfoy also gave a terse nod and shot her a glare, but she was so used to receiving such niceties that it didn't bother her.

"I'm sorry for my indolence, Professor," Hermione apologized sadly and in a small voice.

"That's quite alright, my dear," he replied as he swept all four people towards the end of the hall. Dumbledore led the party towards the exit to the entrance hall with Snape and McGonagall walking beside their respective House member.

They walked for nearly ten minutes it seemed until four flights of stairs later, they stopped in front of a large portrait of a young lady in 19th century attire sitting in a mahogany armchair. She looked to be about fourteen years old, wearing a lavender dress and sun hat. Her hair hung down her back in a black French braid and her skin was pale as snow. The chair, though it looked to be an indoor piece of furniture, sat in a garden with vines and hedges growing along the sides of the frame. Just behind the girl a patch of clear blue sky could be seen with clouds moving across the top of the portrait. Hermione was faintly reminded of a book she had read called _The Secret Garden_.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, this is Elizabeth. She guards the entrance into your new common room," Dumbledore introduced the Head Boy and Girl to the portrait.

"How do you do?" the young girl asked as more of a greeting than a real question.

Hermione nodded her head curtly and replied. "I'm Hermione Granger, and this is..." she said, gesturing towards Malfoy, but then shook her head as he didn't offer his name. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling at his stubbornness. He stood beside her, staring up at the life-sized painting with a scowl. "Right then...Draco Malfoy." He glared at her again. Really...didn't he know how to do anything else?

"The password is Iunctum Inimicus. I think it time we leave you to investigate your rooms. Professor McGonagall? Professor Snape?" Dumbledore continued, then swept down the corridor with Snape on his heels. McGonagall looked reluctant to leave Hermione.

"Will you be alright, Ms. Granger?" she asked Hermione as she sent an unsure glance towards Malfoy, whose scowl just deepened.

"I...I think so, Professor," she replied nervously. She didn't really think Malfoy would physically hurt her but his stinging remarks were enough to injure her emotionally. McGonagall nodded and stalked off down the hall, glimpsing over her shoulder every once in a while until she turned the corner.

Hermione faced Malfoy but he still held his formidable appearance. She didn't apologize, just rolled her eyes and turned back to the portrait.

"Iunctum Inimicus," she told Elizabeth.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger, but the Headmaster gave me strict orders not to allow you entry until you perform a certain act," Elizabeth said.

"What?" Malfoy asked. "What's that old fool up to now?"

"He's not an old fool, Malfoy," Hermione said indignantly, her hands resting on her hips. "Do you know what the password means?"

"I know that 'inimicus' means enemy. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm not sure..." she replied. "Elizabeth, can you at least tell us what the password means?" Hermione's hand was rubbing her chin as she thought about this new problem.

Elizabeth nodded her head and replied, "I can. Iunctum means to unite and inimicus means personal foe, opponent, or enemy."

Hermione's eyes widened as she turned to Malfoy who seemed to realize the not-so-subtle way Dumbledore was trying to get them to work together.

"Together, then?" she asked him, none too happily. He nodded in agreement.

"One...two...three..."

"_Iunctum Inimicus_."

The portrait swung forward and the two students stepped into the common room, taking a look at their new home. Hermione was astonished at the beautiful room within and openly showed her shock and excitement on her face.

The room had stone floors and walls, with a maroon rug on the hearth on the left wall. On the mantelpiece were two statuettes: a gold lion standing on its hind legs rearing to attack, and a silver coil of a serpent with raised head ready to strike. A cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace giving the stone room a warm and homey feel. Directly in front of the hearth was a scarlet couch with mahogany side tables on both ends. Two matching comfortable armchairs faced each other across from the hearth.

On the right wall, two tapestries hung depicting the Slytherin and Gryffindor mascots and colors. A mahogany table large enough for studying stood in the middle of the space between the couch and that wall with four matching straight-backed chairs. There were two staircases on the far left and far right sides of the common room that led up to a balcony with two doors; supposedly their dorms. The most beautiful feature of the entire room, in Hermione's eyes, was the small library in the alcove underneath the balcony and between the two staircases. Mahogany bookshelves lined the back wall of the alcove with two bookshelves creating a barrier, hiding the rest of the small library from view.

Hermione slowly strolled over to one of the bookshelves and ran her fingers across the volumes lightly, reading various titles on the spines. Most of the books she had never seen before and wondered if there were even copies in the library or if the Head Boy and Girl were allowed the only copies in the school. She turned around and noticed a piece of folded up parchment sitting on a tray underneath two cups of tea on one of the side tables. Malfoy stood at the entrance still, taking a good look around and watching Hermione's reaction to the books and the room in general, but when he saw the tray she was standing near, he joined her.

They each took a teacup and sipped the hot liquid that had been waiting for them. Hermione's eyes closed automatically to revel in the feel of the caffeine coursing through her body, heating her already warm appendages, and waking her up completely even at the late hour. She did not notice Malfoy's curious stares as he watched her response to the tea, even though his face was pooled into a smirk of indifference. He put down his cup but before he could get a hold of the parchment, Hermione grabbed it and walked towards the right staircase as she read it. She ignored his pathetic display of anger and continued on to her room, reading the letter as she went along:

_Dear Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy,_

_I hope you find your new dwellings to your liking; they _have_ improved since last term. If you are reading this, you have already taken your first step at unity and hopefully, by the end of this year we will have successfully accomplished complete inter-House unity. Even with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gone, our school still needs to stand very much united as the worst of the shadow has passed, though the Dark times are not over yet._

_You will find that there are no doorknobs on the doors to your separate dormitories. This is a new safety measure not only to ensure that there is no theft, but also to ensure privacy. Simply place your hand flat against the door (palm on door) and it will open automatically. The doors are charmed to only allow this year's Head Boy and Girl into their respective rooms. The restroom, as you will see, connects the two dorms together .When you need privacy, the doors automatically lock as soon as the tap is run in the shower. The sole purpose of this spell is for privacy and not to promote mistrust; an apology before hand if that is the message received. _

_The Head Girl's room is on the right; the Head Boy's is on the left. If you rap the door three times with your knuckles, then open it, the doorway will lead you to your House common rooms. Just in case of emergencies, if someone needs you back there._

_The entire staff expects you to handle your duties and responsibilities like the mature adults we all know you can be. Any misuse of power is intolerable as is shirking off your responsibilities _(Hermione remembered that on the train, Malfoy had not done anything to help her inform the Prefects and meet the first years, and with the way he was smirking at her at the feast, she thought he already knew she was Head Girl so he _should_ have done something!) _Please inform all of the Prefects about a meeting with the Headmaster on Friday September 12, in the Great Hall directly after dinner. _

_Thank you,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

By the time she had finished the letter, Hermione had reached the door. Looking at it, she noticed there really was no doorknob; it looked like a smooth slab of wood positioned against the wall. She leaned forward and placed her palm flat on the door. Almost immediately after all of her fingers touched the cold wood, there was a clicking sound and the door opened. Pushing it the rest of the way in, she stepped inside and closed the door.

This room really wasn't too different from the common room. There were the same mahogany and scarlet colors though this room had gold accents here and there and more Gryffindor paraphernalia. There was no fireplace in this room. Instead, a beautiful mahogany bed with crimson satin sheets stood against the right wall, taking up much of the floor space, gold bed curtains were tied to the bedposts. Her trunk had already been delivered and sat at the foot of her bed. On the left wall was a door (most likely leading to the shared bathroom) and empty bookshelves that Hermione couldn't wait to deposit her books upon. Across from the door was a window that looked out upon the dark lake, far below the castle on the cliff and an intricately carved wardrobe (mahogany of course). Smaller tapestries like the one in the Great Hall for Gryffindor hung on the blank spaces of wall around the room. Hermione's breath had just been taken away and she walked towards the bathroom to see what wonders lay beyond that door as well.

Placing her palm against the other door in the dorm, Hermione entered the bathroom and was at once startled by how bright and modern this room looked. There were brilliantly white square tiles from wall to wall and floor instead of large pieces of smooth stone though Hermione thought the tiles only covered the rock. The ceiling actually was stone but looked like it was painted white. Against the left wall stood a grey marble counter with two sinks stretching the rooms' length with the rest of the wall mirrored. On the opposite side of the room were a shower and the toilet. Hermione supposed if she or Malfoy wanted a bath they'd have to go to the Prefect bathroom. Parallel to her door was the doorknob-less entrance to Malfoy's room.

Sighing, she turned back to her room and unpacked her clothes, placing them in her wardrobe. Her diary was the first book she placed on one of the empty bookshelves which was soon followed by the rest of her personal library. Soon she had two bookshelves full of books; she just couldn't stand the thought of leaving them all at home and since she was of age, she had just shrunk all of her possessions to make more room in her luggage. Pulling out her toiletries, she went back into the bathroom and put those away in the various drawers underneath her sink on the left. While she was there, she decided to brush her teeth, reminding herself (though it was unnecessary) to record her day into her diary as soon as she was done.

As she cleaned her teeth, she thought about the day's events so far. First nearly missing the Hogwarts Express; then the fright she had gotten when Malfoy had surprised her with his presence at the end of the train; finding out Malfoy was the Head Boy; THEN this whole thing with "inter-House unity" just to be stuck sharing a common room with the dope. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about the situation—angry, of course—but he wasn't such a bad looking fellow...Actually, he was _very_ good looking.

Hot. The only word for him.

Hermione sighed absently, toothpaste foam ran down to her chin and she remembered who Malfoy _was_.

_Evil git...stupid ferret...egotistical prat...Slytherin...sex god..._

_WHOA! SLOW down, girl!_

Maybe he was a sex god but he had so many more bad traits than he had good ones. It was his entire fault that Hermione had a diary to begin with, all his family's fault that she had those reactions when totally stressed out. Everything was his fault. _Every—single—thing!_

There was a pounding on the door coming from Malfoy's door before he stumbled in and fell ungracefully flat on his face.

_Must have been trying to force his way in..._Hermione thought, allowing herself a small smirk since she still hadn't shown the Head Boy the letter.

He stood up immediately and dusted himself off, trying to act as if he hadn't fallen at all. Hermione rinsed and wiped her mouth turning to go back into her room.

"Can't stand to stay in the same room as me, can you, Mudblood? Intimidated, are you?"

She stopped dead, wishing that she could just punch him again, but instead tried to leave the bathroom with her dignity and honor in tact.

Turning back around to face him and placing her cold hands on her cheeks, she replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh yes, Malfoy, your startling good looks and devious smirk send me all aquiver! I'm just oh-so-afraid of making a fool of myself in your honorable presence! _Please_ let me leave before I do something stupid!"

He fixed himself into his signature posture: smirk souring his face, arms crossed to intimidate...

"Too bad for you that my taste doesn't go as far as Mudbloods." Hermione let out an exaggeratedly relieved sigh, wiping pretend sweat from her forehead with her arm. "But then again..." At the mischievous glint in his silver eyes, Hermione started to worry. She watched him warily as he formed his next words. "I did say I would have fun this year...as many girls as I could..." He seemed to be thinking aloud, trying to convince himself to...to what? To shag her? Start a relationship with her? That was ridiculous! _Malfoy_ did not want to do _anything_ sexual, romantic, or physical at all, with _her_. She was Muggle-born! The dirt beneath his shoes, remember!

Hermione's temper began to rise as he continued to stand there thinking to himself. She turned back towards her room, stomping towards her door. This seemed to be the reaction Malfoy was waiting for since when he spoke next, Hermione was almost positive he hadn't meant that innuendo.

"Granger?"

She barely turned her head to acknowledge him.

"You're still a Gryffidor Mudblood know-it-all." He finished, smirking of course.

"And Malfoy?" she asked pleasantly.

He gave an impatient sigh. "What now?"

"You're still a ruddy stupid ferret!"

And with that, she stalked back into her room and slammed the door, leaving a momentarily stunned rodent behind.

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**(A/N): I think all of my author's notes will go at the bottom from now on, starting next chapter. Okay, so...it's that time again! REVIEW TIME! YAY! Oh and I think I will go ahead and give you next chapter's title to ponder since I don't know if I will be able to post again before July 16th. Not that you will be able to figure out what happens by it. Okay. Fine. I'm giving you the title because I feel like it. Are you happy now?**

**Chapter Eleven: Divided We Fall**


	11. Divided We Fall

**(A/N): This chapter is dedicated to MY 50TH REVIEWER, **MIDNIGHT-PIXIE**! Who I am starting to think is my biggest fan or something... just kidding! I know if any of my regular readers are fans of something it's the story. But anyway, she was the first to review again, and I can't believe I have reached FIFTY reviews! Do you think I could reach 100 by the fifteenth chapter? Because I have been thinking, if I counted all of the major scenes that I am planning, there would be 8 chapters left. But of course, sometimes I have to cut a chapter in half (such as 10 and 11. They were originally going to be one chapter instead of two.) and I have to create scenes where Draco and Hermione actually fall in love. So I am thinking that this story will be approximately 25 to 30 chapters long. Most likely, anyway. **

**Oh, and I decided to keep my author's notes as they are, top and bottom. It's just easier for me that way. I don't start writing the next chapter until I get a review so that I can start my author's notes and thank my reviewer. Then I start to write the chapter.**

**I can hardly believe that I have eleven chapters. It's amazing isn't it? I never honestly thought I would get so far. I mean, I knew that I wanted to finish it but I wasn't really sure that it would happen.**

**nuttinbutanangel: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I am so glad you like my story! My philosophy of 'Out of Character' characters is that I personally think you can do whatever you want with a character so long as they are not so out of line. What I mean is, Hermione has to still enjoy studying and reading and right, not an uber-skank; Malfoy can't start drooling over Hermione/Ginny/Pansy/Luna (etc.) in the first couple of chapters; Snape can't start handing out high grades or candy...you know what I mean. And I really like my stories to be as canon as possible, so I don't think I am writing OOC. I think the nastiest characters (Malfoy and Snape, specifically) can fall in love and still be in character, so thank you so much for that review. And don't worry, she's not on drugs. On your review for chapter 4, what exactly did you mean 'Anyway i talk 2 the story i luv it!' (I got the 'i love it' part but not the talk to the story part.)? Thank you again!**

**Babiblue754: So, did you like the rooms? I have had the image of that common room in my head since the very first fan fiction I read where Herm and Draco share a common room. It wasn't how the author described the room but that's just what I thought of. I know for the common room scarlet and mahogany isn't very Slytherin but I always pictured that room like that. Deep, dark colors that make the place feel homey. Thank you for the review!**

**MIDNIGHT-PIXIE: 22 dollars for three hours really isn't bad at all. I used to babysit two to three hours for five days a week and made twenty dollars all week. I was doing it for a family friend and my mom thought that even _that_ was too much to charge her. :P**

**(A/N): I would also like to thank **My-Chemical-Romance-Fan **once again for their review. I know that this is a lot of notes for this chapter but I have a lot to say before Half Blood Prince. This will be my last update until after I have finished reading the book. I want all of you to realize that this story was thought up and half of it written before the sixth book's release so anything in my story that contradicts canon evidence in that book will either be ignored or I will write around it. There is a big chance that a lot of my story will have to change so updates may be less often. It's possible that I will lose the enthusiasm for the story that I have just gained. Also, the next update may take awhile because my family is going on another trip on the 21st of this month. I have no idea how long I will be gone or if I will be able to write. Well, enough of that! On with the story!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and other related characters are copyright to Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. They were created by the wonderful, ever-talented, Jo Rowling, so, they're not mine.

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**Divided We Fall:**

Hermione had a good start of term that week. She didn't have any reactions and threw herself into her studies leaving very little time for getting emotional and throwing up blood anyway. All in all, she and Malfoy avoided each other as much as possible, even though almost every time he saw her, Malfoy would taunt Hermione and call her names. To her own surprise, Hermione was able to ignore it, mainly because her thoughts weren't on Malfoy at all but on her classes, which were mainly review from the last term so far, but would eventually become fascinating with the difficult lessons they would learn in their last year at Hogwarts.

The closest Hermione had to get to Malfoy was in their shared bathroom in the morning and at night as they readied for the school day and bed. Malfoy had finally figured out how to open the doors but when Hermione had showered one morning he was screaming and yelling to be let in. Just to annoy him, Hermione had left the shower running when she'd finished just to brush her teeth and when she turned it off, he fell through the door again, landing on his face. It was the best start to the day that Hermione could have anticipated, and for the rest of the week, she didn't worry about Malfoy more than necessary.

Every morning, after Hermione was ready for school, she'd grab her school bag and knock on her bedroom door three times, then she'd wait in the Gryffindor common room for Harry and Ron to go down to breakfast together. That first morning Hermione had to explain to her two best friends about the new situation, to the utter disgust of both young men.

"Hey, Hermione, where were you last night? Harry and I waited for you to come in until past curfew." Ron had said that first morning, as soon as he saw Hermione waiting for them in one of the armchairs by the fire.

"You stayed awake to wait for me until past curfew?" she asked half amused and half not really believing him.

"Well," Harry started, "we fell asleep almost as soon as we sat down, but we knew you would have woken us up when you came in. And when we woke up again at eleven, we went up to bed."

Hermione nodded and began to explain about Dumbledore's plan; about sharing a common room with the Head Boy, and about not sharing the explanatory letterwith Malfoy.

Ron's first instinct was to be angry that she had to stay with "that git" all year, but he was congratulating her on getting the upper hand on him as well. Harry agreed totally with Ron though he took more of a 'big brother' approach.

"If he does _anything_ to you, touches you in _any way_, I will rip his head off."

Hermione was beaming as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast, totally appreciative of her best friend's protectiveness. How could she ever live without Harry and Ron? When they passed the Slytherin table, Malfoy's taunts went unnoticed by the trio, who for once in their entire school career _really_ ignored him. This seemed to throw Malfoy off and stun the Slytherins into silence until the blond heir came up with the lamest taunts criticizing their hearing. The other Slytherins ignored him, knowing that it was futile to call someone deaf if the offended wasn't even listening.

During classes Hermione was first to complete all her work. In Potions, her work was flawless; Snape could find absolutely nothing to correct, so he took points off for Hermione helping Neville with his work once again. Which she _had_ done, but she was so used to getting points taken off for this reason that she didn't really care; neither did the rest of the Gryffindors, to the Slytherins' astonishment. Snape decided the best he could do was pick on Harry, praise Malfoy, and rant about how Longbottom even got into N.E.W.T.s Potions. But Hermione's spirits had not been broken.

In Transfiguration and Charms, Hermione was the first to successfully change a table chair into a llama and break Ron's spirits with a Depressing Charm. She answered every question asked her correctly and her homework was always flawless. When she wasn't doing homework or writing in her diary, she was sitting in the Gryffindor common room with Harry and Ron, checking their homework or visiting Hagrid in his hut by the Forbidden Forrest. Definitely, Hermione was having the time of her life that first week of school. She knew that soon, she would have to start studying for N.E.W.T.s but that first weekend, she wanted to do something daring. Something no one expected her to try and something that she had not even succeeded in yet.

She wanted to ride a broomstick.

Saturday morning, Hermione left the Head common room with her diary in her pocket as always and a simple Muggle pen, which was a lot easier to carry than a quill and ink. As they sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall she asked Harry and Ron what they planned to do with the glorious summer-nearly-fall day.

"We were going to go to the Quidditch pitch and fly around a bit," Harry said flippantly.

_Perfect. _Hermione thought.

"_No, _Hermione, we _don't _want to study in the library...It's too early for N.E.W.T.s!" Ron groaned.

Hermione chuckled lightly. "Actually..." she started and then continued in an unnecessary whisper, "...I wanted to ask you to...well..."

"What is it already?" Ron asked impatiently, unaware of how uncomfortable she was to inquire what she wanted.

"Can you teach me to fly?" she said in a rush of words, still whispering so that only Harry and Ron could hear.

Harry gaped at Hermione while Ron nearly choked on his mouthful of eggs. Neither knew what to make of this question but they both knew what to do.

"Of course we'll teach you to fly!" Ron said from Hermione's right, patting her back roughly and slamming her face into the table. "Sorry..." he said sheepishly.

Hermione rubbed her sore nose as she looked around the table to make sure no one else had heard their conversation. The last thing she wanted was for an audience to form at the Quidditch pitch, waiting to watch Hermione Granger, Mistress of the Library, Conqueror of the Books, and Queen of Studying, fall off of a broom from one foot in the air. Because she knew she didn't want to get much farther than that. She wasn't afraid of heights; no she loved the view from almost any altitude. What she was anxious about was the fact that a thin wooden pole would be the only thing keeping her in the air, protecting her from certain death.

Harry and Ron stuffed the rest of their toast in their mouth and stood from the table, waving at Hermione to get up as well.

"We're leaving _now_?" she asked nervously. Now that she had finally asked her friends to teach her to fly and they were ready to begin the lesson, Hermione wasn't feeling very daring anymore. Her body started to shake with nerves as she stood from the table and Harry and Ron dragged her out of the Great Hall smiling.

They first had to return to the Gryffindor common room to retrieve Harry's and Ron's broomsticks. Only a few short minutes later, the three students were walking down to the Quidditch pitch, Hermione seriously regretting her five minutes of insanity.

"W-we really...don't have t-to d-do this, guys..." she stuttered as Harry and Ron pulled her arms and her feet dug into the ground. "I w-was st-stupid. I didn't m-mean it!"

"You're not getting out of this, Hermione!" Ron taunted her cheerfully. "You need to have more fun; you're always so uptight."

"I'm not uptight!" she said indignantly as she pulled her arms out of her two best friends' grasps. Both boys rolled their eyes as if they didn't believe her. Harry turned around to face Hermione who now had her hands on her hips.

"This is good for you. Just like chess. Besides, don't you want to succeed in everything?" he had asked teasingly, wagging an annoying finger in her face.

"No, I don't bloody well want to succeed in everything," she muttered darkly.

"What was that? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. Could you speak up, love?" Ron mocked her, cupping his hand to his ear to display faulty hearing.

"Shut up," she grumbled loud enough for Harry and Ron to hear and totally aware that they really had heard her previous sentiment. Her face contained a glare that could have killed and her arms were crossed in a pout. She stopped moving and stood where she was, not taking a single step further into the grounds.

"Please, Hermione, don't make me do this," Harry pleaded, but that playful note still remained.

"Do what?" she asked, her eyes widening as he took a couple steps closer to her. "Do what?" she asked again as Harry grabbed her around the waist and slung her over his shoulder.

"HARRY POTTER! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!" her screams were interlaced with her laughter and Ron began to giggle inanely at the pair.

"You asked us for help, Hermione! We are going to teach you to fly, aren't we Ron?

"Yes!" Ron answered as he laughed. Hermione began to laugh harder at the sound of Ron's mirth, which sounded bubbly and reminded Hermione of a chipmunk.

"You can put me down now, I won't run away!" said she, and Harry let her down to walk. She was still nervous about what she'd gotten herself into but masked her anxiety with a new cheerful demeanor.

Standing in the center of the pitch, Ron mounted his broom while Harry positioned his Firebolt in midair, at a suitable height for Hermione to mount.

"The first thing you need to do is sit on the broom right," Harry said, motioning for Hermione to get on the broom. Hermione was biting her lip and wringing the front of her school robes with nervous nimble fingers. When she made no move to get closer to the broom, Harry asked concernedly, "What is it?"

"No offense to you, Harry, or you Ron," she addressed both boys, "but I prefer Ron's broom."

"How would that offend _me_?" Ron asked with a perplexed expression housed on his face, clearly confused with Hermione's thinking.

"Your broom is slower than Harry's," she replied quietly, sending an apologetic look to her red-haired friend for saying his broom lacked the quality of Harry's Firebolt. Ron took no offense. Instead, he waved his hand through the air as if to shoo away the comment.

"No problem, then," Harry said, and with a shared look to Ron, switched brooms. "Whatever makes you more comfortable."

Hermione smiled with gratitude and tentatively stood by the broom, throwing one leg over the smooth wood of the Cleansweep Eleven. Harry and Ron instructed her on the proper way to sit and hold onto the broom until she became comfortable with how to sit and hold the wood. Now, Harry grasped the front of the broom above Hermione's hands and the back just above the tail and lifted Hermione higher into the air slowly. Though the movement wasn't very sudden, Hermione still jerked in surprise and nearly fell from the broom even as she tightened her grip on the handle.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" she screamed in alarm, desperately wishing she was on the ground again.

Harry answered calmly, undaunted by her fright filled yelps. "I'm just lifting you higher so that Ron and I can show you how to direct the broom in different directions. You won't fall, we have you down here."

But Hermione was not at all assured. Her whole body remained tense as Harry lifted her about six feet from the ground and she clenched her eyes closed, holding onto the broom with her hands and knees for dear life.

For the next half hour, Hermione was taught how to make the broom move and flew a few laps around the pitch at a snail's pace. Steadily, she accelerated to a speed that was most comfortable for her nerves until she was going as fast as the Cleansweep Eleven could go. For the next hour after that, she started to fly higher in the air. Ten feet...fifteen feet...twenty-five feet...On his Firebolt, Harry flew by Hermione's side for support. Ron stood on the ground in case something should happen and she should fall.

"See, Hermione! Flying's not so bad!" Ron yelled into the air, cupping his hands around his mouth. "I wish I had a camera to take a picture of this!" he added.

"NO! No cameras! There is absolutely _no way_ anyone is going to know about this!" she screamed back down with just a tiny hint of teasing in her voice.

"Too late, Mudblood."

At the sound of that sneering drawl, the trio turned to the entrance of the Quidditch pitch, Ron from the ground, Harry and Hermione from the air, to see the one person they least wanted to see.

Draco Malfoy entered further into the stadium clutching his Nimbus Two Thousand and One racing broomstick. Before Ron could say or do anything, Malfoy had already mounted his broom and took off into the air.

"Malfoy! Get down from there! Leave them alone!" Ron called, but of course he was ignored.

Up in the air, Hermione stared in astonishment as Malfoy flew to her side. Her fingers seemed to tighten around the broomstick unconsciously even as her anger started to flare.

"What do you want?" she asked derisively.

"Well, I came out here to fly, obviously, and imagine my surprise to see _you_ on a broom in the air. But Iguess you just like the feel of something hard between your legs, don't you?" He sneered at her look of shock at his innuendo. Hermione was too stunned to speak but was still able to pull her wand out of her robes and point it at his throat. Harry flew over to the two upon hearing what Malfoy had said and had his wand drawn too.

"Malfoy, leave now or suffer the consequences," Harry said through gritted teeth, his wand was pointed at Malfoy's heart. That was really a low thing to say, and to say it to Harry Potter's best friend was suicide.

"Maybe I'm not ready to leave," Malfoy smirked in return. As he flew past Harry and Hermione, who was still shocked from his cruel words, he made sure to bump into the Cleansweep.

The broom seemed to spin in the air, throwing Hermione off, only her tight grip on the handle keeping her on the broom. She hung in the air from the broom with only one hand as her other one still held tightly to her wand.

"HERMIONE!" Harry and Ron screamed at the same time. Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy who had turned around to watch Hermione fall. To say he was disappointed that she hadn't fallen to her death was an understatement.

"Careful, Granger, Weasley's probably looking at your knickers! I bet he's never seen them before!"

Hermione's mind was running one hundred miles an hour. Her heart seemed ready to jump out of her rib cage and her head was pounding with confusion. She looked above her and noticed the broom floating suspended in the air, her hand clasped tightly onto the wood. Looking below her she saw the ground at least thirty feet away. Her eyes widened as she realized what had happened and her mind cleared in the emergency.

"Harry! Leave him to me!" she called above her shoulder at Harry who still had his wand pointed at Malfoy, glaring at his sneering face.

"What?" he called in confusion, looking away from the ferret to study Hermione like a piece of homework he didn't understand.

"Just leave him to me!"  
Malfoy sneered at her hanging from the broom as if he didn't think she would be able to do anything to him when she was only four fingers and a thumb away from death.

He never expected the spell directed at him until he was already jinxed.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Oh...damn. He'd forgotten she still held her wand in her other hand.

Malfoy's body, froze, his arms and legs snapped to his sides and he fell from his broom as stiff as a board. The Nimbus remained suspended in the air but Malfoy started to fall to the ground, gaining more speed as the distance from the hard turf lessened.

Hermione didn't give herself much time to be pleased with her work. Instead she turned to Ron's shocked form and yelled, "Ron, Wingardium Leviosa!"

Ron nodded and pointed his wand at Malfoy's falling figure and cast the spell that would allow him to direct Malfoy to the ground safely. Hermione didn't watch, she knew Ron wouldn't disappoint her. She turned her attention to the Nimbus Two Thousand and One still hanging in the air and summoned it to her hand. Positioning the broomstick underneath her, she safely transferred herself to Malfoy's broom and descended to the ground at Ron's side. Harry followed just after.

"What about my broom?" Ron asked, looking into the sky where Hermione had left the broom.

"_Accio_ _Cleansweep Eleven_," she said, pointing her wand into the air. Ron caught the broom as it flew to the three standing students.

The three studied Malfoy lying on the ground unable to move anything except his eyeballs. Hermione lifted the Nimbus in the air where he could see it and waved it a bit.

"Oh no!" she said mockingly, just like she had that first night in the Heads' common room when they met in the bathroom. "It looks like I contaminated your broom when I sat on it!" She rolled her eyes and threw the broom onto the ground at Malfoy's side, parallel with his body.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's go in now. We can play chess or something," Ron said as he tugged on one voluminous sleeve of Hermione's school robes.

"No..." she said, sticking her hand in her pocket and digging around until she found what she was looking for. With her wand and a few muttered words, Malfoy's eyelids closed and he fell into a restful sleep.

"What did you do to him, Hermione?" Harry asked with his mouth hanging open in astonishment at Hermione's new daring self that day.

"He's just asleep. I didn't want him to see me as I did this..." She pulled the pen out of her pocket and uncapped it. Sitting on the ground above Malfoy's head, she began to color his nose.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, both of their mouths hanging open in surprise.

"Hermione, this is a side of you we have never seen before!" Ron said in some form of praise.

Hermione smiled and continued to color his face. The two boys watched her finish the nose, which turned out to be completely black, then draw a circle around each of his eyes and shade them in. Not even Malfoy's eyelids were spared from the ink. She studied what she had done as she chewed on the end of the pen, then started to outline the shape of Malfoy's lips, coloring them black as well when she was finished.

"Done yet?" Ron asked nervously, knowing that if anyone saw Hermione drawing all over Malfoy's face, all three of them would be in trouble.

"Not quite..." She stood up and walked around Malfoy's body to get a better look at his face. With the new features she had added and his pale skin, his face seriously looked like a skull. She rubbed her chin in contemplation before saddling Malfoy's chest and writing on his face again.

"Hermione! What d'ya think you're doing?" Ron said in a scandalized tone, grabbing Hermione's upper arm to pull her off of their enemy's chest. She pulled her arm away from him, sighing in annoyance at Ron's brotherly nature.

"He's asleep, Ron. He probably won't even remember that we stayed. Now leave me alone to finish." With that, Harry and Ron both backed away from the determined girl as she finished what she had started, neither one wanting to anger her in any way. After a few minutes, she stood up to stand in between her best friends, studying her work. Across his forehead, was the word 'LOSER' written backwards so that when Malfoy looked in a mirror, he would be able to read it. On his left check was written 'What now,' and on his right cheek was 'Dickhead' both written backwards as well.

Hermione smirked down at the body as she felt Harry clap her on the shoulder.

"Wow, Hermione..." both boys said flabbergasted. She pulled her diary out of her pocket and unshrunk it, unaware of the looks Harry and Ron were sharing in response to seeing the scarlet leather book. Tearing a blank page out of the back, she scribbled a message and stuck it to the Nimbus Two Thousand and One with a Temporary Sticking Charm. Harry and Ron leaned forward to read what she wrote:

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Hermione_

_XOXOXO_

Short and sweet; they could easily see the sarcasm in the note.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to ride around a bit, Ron," Hermione said as they started back to the castle.

"It's all right, Hermione. That was _definitely_ worth it," he said. As they reached the exit of the Quidditch pitch, they turned back around to take one more look at Malfoy lying frozen on the ground in the middle of the stadium, and they knew what trouble would be had if they were caught doing that to the git. No matter how much he deserved it, McGonagall and Snape would still see fit to punish them and Professor Dumbledore would be most disappointed at their un-united behavior.

"You know what, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"No, what Hermione?" he said, his interest peaked. Even Harry was watching Hermione curiously as she continued.

"I wish I had had a camera too."

Looking at Harry and Ron, whose faces had broken out into smiles, Hermione giggled and threw her hands over their shoulders.

"Pictures would only make us look as guilty as we are," Harry said playfully.

"Come on. Let's get out of here before the spells wear off and Malfoy starts a hunt for our hide," Hermione said, but nothing could bring her spirits down. She'd felt that way all week and even Malfoy's crude remarks from earlier seemed to roll off of her back like water.

"The Gryffindor common room?" Ron asked Hermione.

"I think so," she replied.

* * *

**(A/N): Alright then! Review time! Now I won't be updating until after I finish the book and I am going on a trip on the 21st, remember that. I will try to update as soon as I can though. So enjoy Half Blood Prince everyone! I know I will (whenever I get it, that is.). Jessica _XOXOXO_**


	12. It's Your Fault

**(A/N): As you are all reading this, I have obviously not lost my enthusiasm for Diary of a Songbird like I said I might in the last chapter. Of course, my story is not really based on canon from the series (unless Voldemort really is already dead and I missed something?), but we all knew that when we started this story didn't we? And after reading Half-Blood Prince, I've decided to keep going with Diary of a Songbird as I had intended in the beginning, which means that the canon from Half-Blood Prince will not change the story much in any way. I am not going to change my story to fit the death in the book or...well, Snape's...ah, position. I do have to say that I pathetically mourned Snape more than...the person who died and was severely disappointed by those turn of events (concerning Snape). Heartbroken may be the better and more pathetic word for my emotion during that part of the book actually. As for what Malfoy did throughout the book, I was not really surprised or disappointed. But it was an excellent book and when I went up to the table to pick up my copy to purchase, my heart was beating erratically and my hands were shaking almost uncontrollably. I can imagine that you all felt the same way. As I started to read HBP I could hardly believe I was really reading it and almost thought I was reading another fan fiction. Yeah, pathetic, I know. Anyway, despite everything that I didn't want to happen happening, I still really enjoyed the book. I even read it in 15 hours, not including bathroom breaks and sleep. I hope all of you enjoyed the book as well. **

**I would also like to say that I am sorry this has taken a while to be updated. I had almost finished typing the chapter before I went on my trip then I finished it on the trip but I couldn't post it until I could copy and paste the chapter into a Word document (since my grandma's computer doesn't have Microsoft Word and I only feel comfortable submitting the chapter on that program). I just got back from my trip yesterdayand because of all of the time I spent writing while I was in the States, chapter 13 will be finished very soon so that should be up in a few days as well. **

**PrincessPotter: Amazing...wow...I don't think anyone's described my story like that. Aw, you brought tears to my eyes...I'm sorry about your femur (I can't remember if that's an arm or a leg...I think it's a leg), I hope you feel better soon. Last October I broke my finger and had a hard time writing and typing for a month. But thank goodness that was before I started to write this story! Thank you for your review! You're sweet and it really means a lot!**

**My-Chemical-Romance-Fan: I did mention in the first chapter of DoaS that I would reply to reviewers. It is very polite to thank someone if you appreciate him or her. I appreciate all of my reviewers so I thank them, even if I don't have much else to say. So, thank you!**

**anonomousXoXo: Oh, wow...you think I'm funny? That's good, the last chapter was supposed to be funny...Thank you for your review!**

**mrs. skywalker: I have never considered writing a Star Wars fan fiction. I don't think I would be very good at it because I don't know a lot of the characters and even if I did, the only reason I wrote this story was because a plot came to me. If I start to get an inkling of a story for a Star Wars fic, maybe I will consider writing it. Thanks anyway!**

**(A/N): I would also like to thank my other reviewers: **HazleoceanMIDNIGHT-PIXIEa kid**, and **Babiblue754**. But on with the story already!**

**Warning: Be careful...there's a VERY angry Draco in this chapter...he might bite your head off if you're not careful...Read with caution...I mean it...there is more obscene language in this chapter than any other so far, so don't read it if you are offended easily...**

**Disclaimer: Ah...no. Not mine. Easier done than said...My heart breaks...

* * *

**

**It's Your Fault:**

When Draco next awoke, his first thought was, _Ooh, that cloud looks like a Hippogriff! _And his next thought was, _CLOUD?_

To say Draco Malfoy was confused was an understatement. Sitting up and looking around he recognized where he was but had no idea what he was doing there or why he had been lying in the middle of the Quiddith pitch. Memories swirled in his head just out of reach until he saw his broom on the ground beside him. Pulling a note off of the handle, he read aloud in a soft whisper, "Hugs and Kisses...Hermione?" Reading the name out loud seemed to break the dam in his mind that held his memories. He remembered seeing Granger on a broomstick at least thirty feet in the air (which he still couldn't believe he hadn't imagined) and how he had flown to her side to taunt her. Then she was hanging from the broom and had hexed him. Draco could still feel the terror he had felt as his limbs stiffened to his sides, unable to stop himself from falling. Thank the gods that Granger wasn't out to kill him and that Weasley _did _know how to use a wand or he would be dead for sure.

He couldn't remember much after that. Potter, Granger, and Weasley had stood around him for a bit before Granger had put another spell on him. Did she make him go to sleep, or had he done that on his own? Draco stood up and dusted his robes off before grabbing his Nimbus Two Thousand and One and heading back to the castle; the fun had been taken out of flying when he fell from his broom.

In the entrance hall, Draco met the Golden Trio plus the Ginny chick as they left the Great Hall. Was it lunchtime already? How long had Draco been outside? Draco stopped in front of the quartet and sneered at them before Ginny Weasley burst out laughing, causing the other three to start laughing too. Now Draco was really confused. How dare they laugh at him? And what were they laughing about anyway?

Colin and Dennis Creevey came out of the Great Hall next, examining a camera that Colin held. The brothers both looked up at the group assembled between the marble staircase and the doors leading into the Great Hall. They too had a hard time controlling their laughter as they looked at Draco. Colin held his camera up to snap a picture, thus nearly blinding Draco as well, who was starting to get extremely angry and annoyed. What the hell was wrong with everyone? What were they all laughing at?

The Creevey brothers continued to the marble staircase, the weasel, Granger, Potty, and the weaselette following them. Draco headed for the doors leading to the Great Hall to get some lunch still with his broom perched on his shoulder, but just before he could successfully close the doors all the way, he heard Ron Weasley cry out, "Oy, Colin! How much do you want for that picture?"

As he walked towards the Slytherin House table, the majority of the students throughout the hall began to talk in hushed voices. Some people were staring, laughing, or pointing. Blaise Zabini stopped Draco before he had reached the table, turning him away from the other tables and placing an arm across his shoulders. Draco's eyebrow quirked as if to say, _you dare touch me?_ but Zabini ignored his pointed look.

"What are you trying to pull, Draco?" Blaise asked Malfoy Junior as he walked him back to the door.

"Trying to pull? What are you talking about?" Draco said. Really, had everyone gone mad? What was wrong with him that everyone was laughing and Blaise needed to confront him?

"Listen, Draco, I know your father isn't around anymore, but do you really think going gothic is going to make your family look any better? I mean a Death Eater father and a gothic son? People are going to talk..."

"What in the hell are you talking about, Blaise?" Draco asked the tall black boy through clenched teeth. He wasn't even sure what gothic meant and wait a minute...Was that how Zabini saw the Malfoy family? As a bunch of losers or something? Now if Draco wasn't mad at everyone's stupid behavior, he was mad at Blaise for what he said about the Malfoys. "What are you getting at?" he asked through clenched teeth with renewed anger.

"I think you'd better come with me," Blaise answered as he pulled him out of the doors to the entrance hall and led him towards the marble staircase.

"What's this all about, Zabini?" Draco asked suspiciously as he jerked his person out of Blaise Zabini's grasp.

Blaise didn't say anything as he continued to lead the mistrustful Slytherin up the stairs until they reached the second floor where Draco was dragged into the boys' toilet.

"Wha—? Zabini!" Draco continued, outraged at being rough handled. Him! A Malfoy!

But Blaise just pushed him towards a sink and a mirror. Draco looked back at the other boy skeptically as he neared the sink and peered into a mirror. His eyes widened in shock at what he saw, and he had to say that he was a little disturbed by how skeletal he looked.

Except...

Except that his face was now pink and sore with sunburn from lying in the middle of the grounds for nearly three hours.

He had large, round, black circles around his eyes, making him look as if he had been severely punched. His nose was completely black as well and for the first moment that he looked in the mirror, he had panicked that his nose had disappeared. His mouth was also completely black reminding him of a Muggle mime or a dreary clown on a bad day. If that wasn't the worse thing of all, he had writing on his face—which was written in a way that he would be able to read it upon looking in the mirror and which must have looked like rubbish to the people he passed in the Great Hall.

"'WHAT NOW, DICKHEAD?'!" he screamed angrily at his reflection, completely overlooking the less insulting 'LOSER' scribbled backward across his forehead, and making Blaise jump in surprise. Only one person could have done this to him. The very last person he had seen and insulted...

"WHO THE HELL DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?"

"So you didn't do that to yourself?" Blaise asked with increasing intrigue.

"NO, I BLOODY WELL DIDN'T DO THIS TO MYSELF!" Draco continued to scream as he pointed to his face and flecks of saliva flew from his mouth. His loud voice echoed throughout the room, deafening the only two occupants and Blaise flinched.

"Who is 'she'?" But Blaise knew that he was starting to press his luck. Draco just stared at him, blinded by rage. Blaise flinched again at the angry young man's next obscene words.

"THAT BITCH IS GOING TO PAY!" Draco stood there seething, his breathing harsh and livid, before he stormed out of the bathroom to stomp back to his common room. The one he shared with Hermione Granger...

_Yes, Granger is going to pay dearly..._

Before long, he stood in front of a yawning Elizabeth and sneered at her.

"Iunctum Inimicus," he said with sarcasm, ignoring the calculating and almost bewildered look the young girl gave him as she revealed the portrait hole and he climbed through into the common room.

He took a good look around the serene room and wondered for a brief moment whether Granger was in her rdorm at all. Standing at the bottom of the right staircase, he noted that her door was closed, but then again, she always kept it closed. Without even thinking that she might be in the Gryffindor common room, he trumped up the steps and pounded on the smooth wood shouting words that were less likely to coax her out of her room and more likely to scare her off.

"GRANGER! GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

* * *

After encountering Malfoy in the entrance hall, Hermione had headed off to her own room planning on meeting Harry and Ron for dinner. She hadn't had the chance to write in her diary since after retiring from drawing masterpieces on Malfoy's face, Ron had subjected her to playing chess ("You still need to work on being bad at something...and I like to win..." Ron had said.).

Seeing that confused look on Malfoy's face as Colin snapped his picture and the six Gryffindors laughed at him was another memory Hermione added to her collection of 'Malfoy in Humiliating Circumstances Gallery of Memories', as she had dubbed it in her last entry in her diary. But she couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of remorse. Yes, he had deserved what he had gotten for all the torture of six years; for causing (though he was most likely unaware of that as well) her need in confessing to a diary, and for those perverted remarks on the Quidditch pitch. But she still felt as if she wouldn't want to have been treated in that way so she shouldn't have treated anyone like that. The situation reminded her of James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and Severus Snape. Back in Harry's dad's day, James, Lupin, Pettigrew, and Sirius had tortured Snape just because he existed and was interested in the Dark Arts. While Hermione did not condone dabbles in the Dark Arts, she did notice that just because of Snape's background, he was mistreated.

_But Malfoy is different_...she thought, though she couldn't really convince herself, and if she couldn't convincer herself, then no one else would believe it either.

Like teachers.

Hermione suddenly felt the full consequences of what would happen if Malfoy snitched to his beloved Snape. She could get expelled or at the very least, lose House points and earn detentions. McGonagall would not be kind to Hermione for how she had humiliated Malfoy, Snape would be even worse in Potions class, and Dumbledore...oh, Dumbledore would be so disappointed that she and Malfoy couldn't become friends or something as wildly absurd as that.

_What did he expect? Malfoy hates me...he's shown that today when I did nothing to him...I had to defend myself..._

One thing was for sure though, if Hermione was turned in for her negative actions towards Malfoy, she would not allow Harry or Ron to take the blame. Hermione had done it all on her own; she had jinxed Malfoy, put him to sleep, drawn all over his face, and left him to bake in the sun.

And what had he done to her?

He'd merely called her names, made some very crude remarks, and knocked her from Ron's broom though she hadn't fallen so there really was no harm done. So really, Malfoy had not been justifiably attacked, at least not for his crime that morning. Hermione contented herself with saying that that one action (plus the slap in third year, plus the punch in the Leakey Cauldron...) was pay back for all six years of his torture.

Again, she hadn't entirely convinced herself...

All of this, of course, had been written in her diary; all of her doubts, fears, niggling notions, the days' events... She was just in the middle of recounting the experience on the Quidditch field when she heard the portrait slam closed down in the common room. Her body tensed as her quill froze mid-word and her blood seemed to run cold. Only one person ever entered the common room and she knew he would be extremely angry with her by now.

Loud stomps could be heard as Malfoy angrily made his way across the common room, up the right staircase then silence as he paused at her door. Hermione stood from the bed and silently made her way to her door, pressing her ear against the hard wood and being careful not to touch the door with her hands. All of a sudden, an explosion of sound could be heard through the door, and Hermione jumped back in surprise. Her heart was pounding in her chest at the rush of adrenaline from the fright and she started to register some of the words being yelled.

"—HERE RIGHT NOW! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

Hermione scrambled backwards a bit before there was more pounding.

"DAMNIT, YOU! GET OUT HERE, NOW!"

Before completely thinking about it, Hermione knocked on the door three times with her knuckles. The noise on the other side paused, and Hermione knew that Malfoy had to be confused as to why she was knocking on her own door. Tentatively, Hermione placed her palm flat on the door and pushed it open slowly. The sight before her was not an enraged Malfoy; it wasn't even the top of the stairs leading to her common room. She now stood in a doorway facing a round circular room with comfortable squishy armchairs by a warm, roaring fire. The Gryffindor common room.

Several students were mingling around the fire, sitting at various tables doing homework or reading. Pulling the door to her bedroom closed behind her, Hermione entered the common room, searching the armchairs for Harry's raven or Ron's copper head. Finding them in their usual chairs by the fire, Hermione made her way over to them and sat on the floor at Harry's feet, leaning against the front of his chair. She pulled the _Evening Prophet _off of the coffee table and pulled it in front of her face, not really reading it, just hiding her face from view.

Harry noticed that the newspaper was upside down and looked at his friend curiously. He eyed Ron who had also noticed and said, "Your newspaper is upside down."

"So it is," she said casually as she looked at the paper, then at Harry. Then she flipped the paper the right way and hid her face again, muttering, "Malfoy's awake."

Harry and Ron immediately sympathized with Hermione and left their chairs to sit on the floor on either side of their once-bushy-haired friend.

"It's your own fault he's mad now, you know," Ron said tactlessly. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and just stared into the fire in the grate. Hermione's mind was racing and she realized how funny the whole situation would be when she finally wrote about it in her diary. Her eyes widened and her arms slackened as she also realized exactly where her diary was. The newspaper fell from her hands and her mouth fell open. Harry and Ron looked at her curiously again, wondering what could be wrong now.

"Oh, my God... MY DIARY! I left it on my bed!" she screamed as her hands clapped to the sides of her face.

"Oh, no," Ron groaned. "Does this feel like deja vu or what?"

Hermione jumped up from the floor and ran to the door leading to her room. The door swung open and she ran in. To her horror, Malfoy was sitting on her crimson bed, her diary was opened in his hands and his pink and black face was submerged in the pages.

Draco Malfoy was reading Hermione's diary.

* * *

_Knock, knock, knock._

For a second, Draco stared at the door in confusion. Why was she knocking on the door? Did Granger expect it to open for him? But to his surprise, the door did open. Draco peered into the room but finding it empty, stepped inside. Just as he stood in the middle of the room, scrutinizing the decor, the door closed behind him. He jumped in surprise, realizing that he wouldn't be able to get out of Granger's room until she came back and touched the door; then realizing that she would find him there. Draco wondered, not for the first time either, whether Dumbledore had done everything in his power to 'unite' Gryffindor and Slytherin, and he wondered what he had done to deserve being stuck in a Mudblood's room.

Though, he thought the Mudblood in question would have been able to list quite a few things.

Draco noticed that Granger's room looked exactly like his own except that everything that was crimson in her room was green in his, everything gold was silver, gold lion statuettes were substituted for silver snakes, and Gryffindor tapestries were substituted for Slytherin tapestries. Besides all of that, Draco's room was turned around opposite Hermione's. While her bed jutted from the center of the right wall and the bathroom door was situated on the left, in his room the bed jutted from the left wall and the bathroom door was situated on the right.

Suddenly, a thought came to Draco that he hadn't thought of before. He knew Granger had been in her room when he had been pounding on her door, but she had disappeared to somewhere. As far as he figured, she wouldn't return to her room for a while yet since she would try to escape his anger for drawing on his face. While he was stuck in her room, he had the opportunity to dig around for dirt to make the "Gryffindor Princess" look bad.

He rummaged around her wardrobe for a while but only found clothes Hermione Granger would wear--like blouses, long skirts, a dress robe, and a couple of Muggle dresses--and a few things he thought that he would _like_ to see her wear--like tank tops, short T-shirts, denim jeans and even, to his surprise, denim skirts. When Draco tried to open Granger's trunk, the clasps wouldn't budge and he figured she had locked it. Looking up from the trunk sitting at the foot of her bed, he spied a book open face up on the crimson duvet.

Standing from his kneeling position, he walked around the side of the bed and sat down. The book was lying open face up and at the first glance he could tell it was a diary or a journal of some sort. Tiny loopy writing written in purple ink flooded the two pages that he could see. Sitting on the bed, Draco lifted the book and flipped through the pages, finding that most of them were covered with purple ink speckled every once in a while with black inked paragraphs.

Draco turned back to the page he had found the book on. Getting comfortable on the bed, he read:

_... strangest feeling sitting on Ron's broom. As soon as I had sat down I had been afraid of falling off and I never even thought of going higher. It was funny, too, how comfortable it was to sit on the broom. That was obviously the work of a Cushioning Charm worked into the wood during manufacturing. But now I can see why the boys like Quidditch so much. I mean, I was going as fast as the Cleansweep would let me and it was exhilarating. But I don't think I will ever try Harry's Firebolt. Way too fast for me. Then Malfoy had to come out and ruin everything, but I got him back big time. The look on his face was priceless! Oh God, I...am so dead. If Malfoy tells McGonagall or Snape I think I might as well pack my bags..._

Draco smirked as he read that. He hadn't even thought of how much trouble Granger would get in if he told Snape what she had done. He skipped to the last paragraph in the entry.

_...but seriously, Malfoy is going to kill me when he finally sees his face. Seeing him look so confused in the entrance hall had been hysterical, and Colin said he would give me a copy of the picture for a small kiss (when Ron had to pay, and Harry had to give another signed picture). But when Malfoy gets a hold of me...I don't even want to think about it. I can already imagine having another reaction. And I had been doing so well. It's been a little over a week since the last o--_

Draco didn't have time to wonder what a 'reaction' was because at that moment, Hermione Granger had burst through her door into her room. She stood in the doorway, chest heaving, her eyes wide as she noticed what he was holding. His eyes met hers and he sneered at her.

"Looking for this?" he asked, waving the diary tauntingly.

Hermione swayed on her feet for a second before falling over backwards in a dead faint.

Draco slid off of the scarlet bed and stood beside Hermione's limp form. Against his better judgment, he couldn't help but wonder if she had hit her head when she fell. He kneeled down beside the Head Girl and pushed her wavy light brown locks away from her face.

_This is the perfect chance to get her back, Draco..._ a small voice in the back of his head said. _Do to her what she did to you..._

Looking around, Draco could see Muggle writing utensils, quills, and wells of ink all over the room. He could easily use any of them to draw on _her_ face like she had done to him. Grabbing one of the pens off of the bed, Draco uncapped it and positioned it above her face. But taking a look at her pale, creamy skin, her full lips, her lean body lying there helpless on the floor... he couldn't do it. For some reason that frustrated him, Draco Malfoy couldn't take revenge on the Mudblood he hated most of all.

Draco threw the pen against the wall and stood up to pace angrily around the bed and the room.

_Damnit, Draco. Hex her or something! You didn't have a problem trying to hex Potter with his back turned in fourth year, and you didn't have a problem breaking his nose while he was stunned in sixth year...She's a girl, and she's unconscious. Just draw on her face! Do _something

But he couldn't. Maybe being turned into a ferret by Imposter Moody had taught Draco not to hex someone when they were in a formidable position. Just the thought of that being the reason would have made Draco laugh, even if he never laughed at the memory of being a ferret. That nasty voice reared its ugly head again at the back of his mind, and he tried to stifle it to no avail.

_Maybe, you like the little Mudblood...Maybe you're becoming a blood traitor like those disgusting Weasleys... _The voice sent a shiver down Draco's spine. He couldn't help but realize that the voice sounded exactly like his father. Even dead as he was, Lucius was still out to make Draco's life miserable.

Resolving to end that fight with himself, Draco sighed in anger and kneeled down next to Hermione again. Slipping one arm under her shoulder blades and the other under her knees, he stood with her body cradled against his chest and deposited her onto the bed. He cleared away all of the writing implements that littered the duvet and sat on the side of the bed by Hermione's unconscious body. Barely registering what he was doing, he again moved her hair away from her face and was surprised at how smooth it felt. Being a Mudblood and all, he would have thought that her hair was brittle and dry. Almost with complete concentration, Draco stroked her cheek and was again surprised that she felt as soft as she looked. Her skin felt like the lightest velvet; warm; and pale from fainting. He left his hand resting against her cheek as he studied her unblemished skin. So submersed in his study of her face was he, that he didn't even notice her eyes flutter open and the horrified look she gave him.

Hermione jumped out of bed as fast as she could, giving Draco an incredulous look, before flying to the bathroom door. Draco grabbed the scarlet diary and rushed to the bathroom as well, before the door closed and he was trapped in the Gryffindor's room. At the doorway, he avoided looking at the mirror at his sun burnt and black face but he needn't have even tried to avoid looking. Something else had caught his attention.

Granger had just fallen to her hands and knees in the middle of the bathroom, her head was bent and Draco knew that she was throwing up. Even with her body hunched over as it was, he could still see the puddle of blood on the white tile floor. To his amazement, (the third time in five minutes, too) Granger's blood was a bright crimson red and not the muddy, polluted color his father had always told him it should be. Hermione Granger's blood was exactly the same color as Draco's the day he had fought with Potter and Weasley in Diagon Alley; the same pure, scarlet, red color.

For a second, Draco wondered if maybe Granger _wasn't_ Muggle-born, but he quickly dismissed this idea because she had always been proud of her parentage and Draco had seen her parents before. It was quite a shock to Draco to find that after everything his father had told him about Mudbloods, about their inferiority and their dirty blood, they were exactly the same. He had sort of just proven that as he had studied Granger unconscious. Her hair could shine like any other's, her skin could feel as soft as the purest blooded person, her _blood_ looked exactly like everyone else's. There was no difference between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy except for the obvious male, female, personality and family differences that every single person was unique with.

Hermione muttered a quiet _Scourgify_ to clean the blood. Sitting up, she noticed that Draco was in the bathroom with her. She also noticed that his mouth was hanging open and he looked like he had gotten the shock of his life. He was also staring at her.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she said through clenched teeth angrily. "Your door is right there, you can leave now! You don't have to be stuck in a _Mudblood's_ room anymore." Draco didn't move, though he had wiped the shock of his epiphany from his face.

Standing up, Hermione began to rant.

"What's this now? I would have thought that _you_ of all people would have been _running _back to your room. I know you read my diary and I know you saw my blood. Aren't you afraid of becoming contaminated? Being so close to my _dirty blood_ and all?" Draco still did not move but he opened his mouth in anger to say something, unsure of why he was even angry, but Hermione beat him to the punch.

"Just go away, Malfoy! This is your entire fault anyway! Just leave me alone. Go wash your face and get a potion for that sunburn. You're an eyesore!"

Draco's anger flared enormously at being called an eyesore. He had always found that he was a fairly good looking bloke, but to be called an _eyesore..._

"Now wait just a minute you filthy little—," but even though he was going to say 'Mudblood', he didn't think the word fit anymore. He knew from then on, he would never call Hermione Granger a Mudblood, but as for other Muggle-borns, he couldn't make any promises. "—know-it-all, it's your own damn fault that I look like this and I didn't do anything to you!"

"You've done plenty to me! That's why I gave you a makeover, because for six years, you have done nothing but torture my friends and me. You were being a pervert this morning so I got back at you, and you deserved that and more for everything you've done to me. So don't give methat, _oh, I'm so innocent_,thing because it won't play with me! You don't even know what real emotional pain is!"

The whole time she talked, Hermione had stepped closer and closer to Draco until she was poking him in the chest and looking up into his startled face. Draco watched as her scowl was quickly replaced with a far away look. Then she dove to the other side of the bathroom and just had enough time to lift the toilet lid and seat before emptying her stomach again.

Draco thought that throwing up blood was so completely disgusting but he couldn't help but feel sorry for Granger. But before he got all sappy with her predicament (Not that that would happen, Malfoys _never _get sappy.), Draco started to get angry. Why would she say that _he_ caused her little problem? Had he really always been the one to make her throw up like that? Did it happen when she was mad at him?

_No matter what she says, it's not my fault, _he told himself. He steeled his facial expression and stance and tried to appear cold at her situation. Starting towards his room, Draco remembered the diary he was still holding in his hand and as he passed the toilet, he tossed the leather book onto the floor at Granger's side. She looked up at him, he was startled to see, with tears in her eyes and coursing down her cheeks. Without speaking, they both knew that Draco would not tell anyone about Hermione's reactions, though neither knew why he was willing to keep her secret.

As soon as the door leading to Malfoy's room had shut, Hermione glared at her diary and picked it up. In a wave of anger at her life, she threw the diary across the bathroom where it struck the mirror and shattered the glass. Glass showered over the countertop and onto the floor and the diary fell onto the counter between the two sinks, glass covering it.

Tears continued to run down Hermione's cheeks as she stood up to rinse her mouth with warm water from her sink, ignoring the glass that covered the counter. Once the water that she spit out of her mouth was not tinted pink with blood, she tapped another cupful of water three times with her wand and transfigured the clear liquid into minty mouthwash. Conjuring a washcloth now, she ran it under some hot water and cleaned her face, holding the cloth to her eyes to try to get the red and puffiness out from crying. Lastly, she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth again with mouthwash before turning to go back to her room.

As she reached her door, she remembered the damned diary and turned back to retrieve it. With a quick _Reparo_ spell, the mirror fixed itself and Hermione went back to her room, clutching the diary to her chest. She collapsed onto her bed still clutching her diary as if she were trying to switch the diary with her heart in her ribcage and was soon asleep from exhaustion.

She dreamed about Malfoy's eyes again, like she usually did on most nights. But the usual dream of just staring into Malfoy's eyes quickly escalated to her crying and Malfoy wiping away her tears with the light touches of his fingers, holding her face with gentle hands. He leaned down and Hermione's eyes fluttered for a second in surprise before closing as his lips met hers. Hermione took a step closer to her longest enemy, wrapping her arms around his neck and trying to meet his kiss. Malfoy's hands were warm where they touched her waist and lower back. The small kiss also escalated to something else as Malfoy ran his tongue along Hermione's bottom lip, asking for entrance to her mouth. Without hesitation, she parted her lips and allowed his tongue to enter. The kiss was passionate but gentle and left Hermione's knees weak and her heart begging for more.

When she woke up for breakfast the next morning, Hermione didn't remember the dream at all. She dressed in her school robes and like usual, put her shrunk diary and a pen in her robe pocket along with her wand. As she entered the bathroom to brush her teeth, she didn't look at the toilet and avoided stepping on the spots of the floor that she had thrown up on even though they were already cleaned. Then she made her way down stairs finding Malfoy standing at the bottom expectantly as if waiting for her.

_That's crazy. Malfoy hates me. He isn't waiting for me. Besides, we usually spend our time avoiding each other._

She passed him up without a word or a glance and made her way to the portrait hole, but she felt his presence as he followed her out of the common room. She could still sense him as she walked through the corridors. Now she started to wonder what he wanted but it was breakfast time so he was just going to the Great Hall, same as her. So instead of heading for the Great Hall, Hermione made sure to walk in the opposite direction toward the library. At the door she found that Malfoy was still following her so she turned on him.

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?"

Malfoy sneered down at her while he answered. "I wanted to see how long you lasted before you finally blew up."

Against her better instincts, Hermione's anger began to take control.

"THAT'S _IT_?" she seethed.

Malfoy looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well...no. Why is it _my_ fault that _you_ can't keep your blood where it's supposed to be?"

"What makes you think that I am going to tell you what Harry and Ron don't even know? You are not my friend, in fact, you have been my enemy since first year, and _you_ are not privy to such information," she said angrily. Her hands were made into fists at her sides and her teeth were clenched. Draco wondered if this was her battle stance.

"If it has to do with me then I think I am entitled to know," he countered.

"I don't think so," Hermione scoffed as she turned to go back down the corridor to breakfast.

Malfoy grabbed her arm and shoved her against the stone wall, angry since he was not used to being dismissed so easily. As he looked into Hermione's brown doe eyes, his teeth clenched angrily as well, he thought he saw fear and anger hidden in the depths of her pupils. Without even thinking, he crashed his lips to hers in an angry kiss completely different from the kiss Hermione had dreamed about and didn't remember.

At first, Hermione was shocked. She didn't respond to the kiss and instead pushed him away from her roughly. Her mind told her to walk away; to go to breakfast and pretend the little scenario had never happened but her body wouldn't move. Finally, her curiosity won over and she asked, "What in the name of Merlin did you do that for?"

Malfoy was speechless for a while, not sure of how to respond since he didn't know the answer to the question himself. He didn't have to worry about answering anyway since he heard Granger's voice penetrating his disbelief.

"I see you got that stuff off of your face," she said with a sneer, momentarily forgetting about that harsh kiss.

Quick with a comeback, Draco countered, "I see you didn't." He smirked and left down the corridor for the Great Hall.

Hermione stood motionless for awhile trying to figure out if he meant what she thought he meant. She rubbed her face as if trying to feel for an extra eye or nose and took off down the corridor as well for breakfast. Taking her seat across from Harry and Ron, she said before they could even say 'good morning', "Is there something on my face?"

"No," Harry said after a glance to her face.

"No," Ginny, who now sat beside Harry at meals, agreed.

Ron turned his head this way and that as he studied Hermione's face as if trying to see her in different lights. After nearly five minutes of his scrutiny, Hermione was becoming impatient.

"Ron! Well, do I or don't I?"

"Oh! No. You don't have anything that isn't normal," he said, startled out of his reverie.

"So, there's nothing on my face at all? Nothing that I don't usually have? No spots or pimples or _anything_?" she asked again.

"No," her three friends said in unison.

Hermione searched the Slytherin House table, two tables ahead of the Gryffindor one, for Malfoy's platinum hair. When she found him, he was staring directly at her, sneering. She glared back at him and flipped the bird, which she would never have usually done. Harry and Ron exchanged shocked looks and turned around to find out who she was directing the profanity at and finding Malfoy glaring at the three of them, shrugged their shoulders and continued to eat.

"Ms. Granger! I must say that I am surprised that our Head Girl would do such crude things! Ten points from Gryffindor for such behavior!" Hermione flinched as Professor McGonagall deducted points and glared at her with her mouth set in a grim, thin line. Another glance at the Slytherin table told her that Malfoy was now laughing at her.

This time she opted just to stick her tongue out at him.

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**(A/N): Whoo! So what do you think? Things are definitely moving up! I am just a little unsure of how exactly they will fall in love. It will be a lot easier to make them friends. What did you think of the kisses? It was very hard to describe that first one and while it was easy for me to picture it in my head, it was extremely difficult to write. I've never been kissed so how would I know what it's like? I would love to know what you thought about it. I already know it wasn't wonderful and I think it's kind of funny how Hermione and Draco's first kiss (in reality) happened. **

**The scene in the bathroom has been in my head since the very beginning and was the inspiration for me to include a diary into the story. As I was thinking Diary of a Songbird up, (before I came up with the title, obviously) I hadn't thought about making Hermione have a diary but the story does make more sense with it in there. **

**Ah, writing this story is so much more fun than I thought it would be. I remember after getting the first chapter typed up that I was so excited that I could hardly wait for the three day waiting period for starting an account on FanFiction dot net to be over so I would be allowed to post it. And I was so excited getting those first reviews! I seriously had thought no one would read the story. But now look at me! Twelve chapters in and 64 reviews. It's amazing! I hope y'all enjoyed Half-Blood Prince and I hope y'all also enjoyed this chapter!**


	13. Forever Was In His Eyes

**(A/N): Okay, people! I think this is the chapter we've all been waiting for in more ways than one! I just have to say, you might find the explanation for Hermione's weird behavior and "reactions" disappointing. I think I have made it sound a lot more...well...I can't think of how I want to say it but, I think I have made it sound a lot grander and more important (maybe that's right) than it will turn out to be. If any of you really do feel disappointed by anything in the story, I want to know so that I don't make the same mistake twice.**

**PrincessPotter: Thank you for the complete honesty. You're right, the kiss wasn't that romantic...but...we can be sure of more romantic kisses in the future! Not the near future, mind you, but all the same...and again, I hope you feel better soon. I know I couldn't _stand_ it when my finger was broken, so just think...a femur? (...I'm still not sure if that _is_ a leg... :P)**

**mrs. skywalker: No, Draco was just trying to agitate Hermione. There really was nothing on her face, he was just being stupid and annoying. (Imagine Hermione muttering, "Stupid prat...he'll get what's due...," evilly... :P) And this is 'the big secret' chapter, but please read above Author's Note. **

**xx-scratchthat: Well, I am always glad to get new readers! Wow, you liked my story so much that you read it in a day? Isn't everyone dying to know what the secret is? I hope you aren't too disappointed (as I stated in above Author's Note) with the 'Final Explanation', as I should call it. What didn't you get about the kiss? How can I help clear that up? Really, I don't want my readers to be confused during any part of my story. Thank you for your review!**

**My-Chemical-Romance-Fan: Thank you so much for the review. I'm glad you liked that chapter and...maybe Malfoy won't be so much of an 'ass' in this chapter...but I'm not saying anything! Just read on!**

**(A/N): I would also like to thank **charley** and **HarryPottergrl19 **who both said they love my story. Awwwww...thanks guys!**

**Disclaimer: Not Mine. Boo hoo. Moving on.

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**Forever Was In His Eyes:**

In late September Hermione went down to lunch late and alone. Harry, Ron, and Ginny had left after breakfast for Quidditch training and Hermione didn't expect them to return until dinner. She was able to grab an apple in the Great Hall before the plates cleared and lunch was over, and headed outside to eat and take a walk. As she started to walk down to the lake, Hermione pulled out her diary and unshrunk it, planning on reading everything she had written since the very first entry.

Lifting the book in front of her face, she noticed a spot sitting on a rock by the shore of the lake in the distance. From her vantage point, she could see a boy sitting on that rock and she knew exactly who it was as the shining blond hair stood out against the background of gray sky and trees. Reaching the edge of the lake, Hermione decided to walk around the opposite side of the lake to avoid Malfoy at all costs. During her walk, the wind picked up, blowing harder, tossing her robes and her hair around her body and waist. Hermione wondered how soon the rain would come.

After walking for an hour, the apple still only had two bites in it and Hermione was more than half way through the diary. Passing the rock she had seen from the path down to the lakeshore, she heard what sounded like sniffling. She paused trying to identify the sound and looked up at the rock, slightly startled to see that Malfoy was still sitting there.

And he was _crying_.

Harry had told Hermione how he had caught Malfoy crying in a boy's bathroom in sixth year but Hermione had yet to actually see it. Oh, she could definitely _believe_ it since she would have been crying too at the thought of being killed by Voldemort for not going through with a mission passed on by the big man himself. With out word, she shrunk her diary and returned it to her pocket with her pen and wand.

So as not to startle the crying Malfoy, (Hermione didn't think he would appreciate her witnessing the private moment at all...especially after he attacked Harry for seeing him cry the previous year.) Hermione slowly walked around the rock to the side, so that she could see Malfoy's profile. What she saw seemed to soften her heart towards her enemy of six years and she desperately wished she could hold him, to make his pain go away.

Tears poured out of those mysterious sliver eyes of his as he stared up at the dark gray sky. His arms hung loosely around his legs which were drawn up to his chest. The wind blew his hair and robes around almost haphazardly. His mouth washanging open a little to let out rattling breaths. Hermione felt another desperate desire, this time to kiss his pain away. The whole situation seemed crazy when thought about logically but Hermione wasn't thinking logically. For once, she saw Malfoy as another human being, as another person who could hurt and possibly love. He had to love something to be hurt so much to cry, hadn't he?

One of Hermione's hands rested lightly on the rock and Hermione wished that she was touching him in a comforting manner. "Malfoy?" she whispered softly, the concern clearly evident in her voice. His head snapped in her direction, and Hermione would never forget the look on his face for as long as she lived. Before he could cover his emotion, he looked sad, lost, and lonely peering down at her from his rock perch. She knew from then on, she would never call Draco Malfoy, Malfoy again.

Draco slid down from the rock and drew his wand, pointing the tip at her throat. After what felt like forever, but could only have been a few seconds, his face became cold, his eyes piercing. For awhile there, she had felt close to solving the mysteries Draco's eyes held. She thought she could have seen forever in his eyes, which really didn't make much sense in her own head, but the thought was there. Once she stared into the icy orbs, time seemed to slow down remarkably around them, but now his gaze was cold and full of hat. Hermione did not make a single move for her wand, but let him feel in control of the situation.

"I don't know real emotional pain, huh?" he said with so much hatred that Hermione physically flinched.

"I..." but he wouldn't let her talk.

"What do you want?" he hissed through clenched teeth with the same amount of hatred.

"I..." but she could find no words to say what she wanted. What could she do? Say, '_Oh, Malfoy! I was so wrong about you! Please, let me hold you and kiss you. Tell me what's wrong and let me fix it, baby!'_?

The wand jabbed at Hermione's throat impatiently, not only hurting her with a poke but slightly burning her with the tip, his anger heating his wand until it was about to shoot harmless sparks at the girl. She jumped in surprise but didn't move either of her hands to her now stung skin.

"I..."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he shouted in her face as he took a step closer to her until Hermione had to lean back because he was so close. His eyes were wide with anger and Hermione swore she could see fear. She was positive that his sadness was still in his eyes. Draco wasn't as good as Professor Snape at hiding his emotions, even though he was an Occlumens.

"I..."

"GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!"

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes, to her ultimate surprise. She didn't like this Draco Malfoy. With this one, she was afraid. While he had never done anything to harm her in the six years they had hated each other, at that moment, Hermione was certain he could have hurt her if he wanted.

"I..." but she still didn't know what to say. He would not appreciate pity at all, she knew that much, and she didn't want to give him any. She just wanted to know what was wrong and help. But she had interrupted a vulnerable moment for him and she thought he would punish her for it now.

So she tried again. "What's wrong?" She spoke in a kind but firm voice that could not be mistaken for pity.

This seemed to surprise Draco for second as his façade faded before he brought his guard up again.

"What makes you think I'm going to tell you?" he said with a hateful sneer, throwing Hermione's own words back in her face. She just gaped, opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, momentarily stunned. "You are not my friend, in fact, you have been my enemy since first year, and _you_ are not privy to such information," he continued as he advanced on her. For every step Draco took towards Hermione, she took two steps back.

"I..." Hermione said again. Instead of saying anything more, anything she might regret, she lifted her hand to Draco's face and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. She wasn't sure what made her do it but in every fantasy she had ever had with Draco in it, he had wiped her tears from her face in just the same way. In these daydreams, she found the motion comforting and now only hoped she wasn't making a fool of herself.

Ah, but it was too early to be hoping.

Draco snatched Hermione's wrist, and pulled it away from his face. He glared at her as she flinched at his tight grip.

"Don't you dare touch me, you filthy Mu—," but he paused. His face blanched as he seemed to choke on the word. Without finishing his sentence, he let go of Hermione's wrist and turned away from her, walking back towards the rock and climbing up again. "Just go away and leave me alone, Granger," he said quietly, his voice full of exhaustion. He was sitting on the rock in the same way Hermione had found him a few minutes earlier.

This Draco also scared Hermione. She had never seen him look so...sad or forlorn before. An angry Draco Malfoy was easier to understand and to hate but this one seemed...defeated, and his usual Malfoy delusions of superiority were gone. His confident, self-assured, arrogant-ness was all missing. Hermione had no idea who _this_ Draco Malfoy was and wasn't sure of which she was scared of more: Super Angry Draco or Lost / Defeated Draco.

She stepped up to the rock again looking into Draco's face. His lost expression had returned and every once in a while he glanced at the darkening sky. Hermione wanted to know him and to be his friend; maybe if things had been different they _could_ have been friends. If they were different people or had different families. This was the first time that Hermione had ever _wanted_ to get to know Draco Malfoy. What would Harry and Ron think if she told them that?

Draco looked down at her again, catching Hermione staring at his profile.

"I thought I told you to go away?" he said sadly. His eyes were still red and slightly puffy but the tears had dried on his face. Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She thought that he could not look any more attractive as he was, fresh from crying. And it was quite a startling concept when she very much wished to kiss his tear stained cheeks, then kiss his lips to no abandon until he kissed her back.

Just thinking thoughts such as this sent a strange fluttery feeling to Hermione's stomach. Self consciousness overtook her and for a second she felt shy and wanted to just turn around and go back to the castle, or even (to her own bewilderment) go watch Harry, Ron, and Ginny practice their dull Quidditch. But now she felt compelled—the Gryffindor in her, she assumed—to reach out to Draco and let him know that she could be there for him if he wanted her to be. Though she wished the feeling in her stomach would go away first...

Hermione walked around the rock to the other side and to Draco's surprise and annoyance, climbed up beside him. He just looked at her incredulously for a second before he grunted, "What do you want? I _told_ you to leave me alone."

"When have I ever done what you told me to?" Hermione said with a light smile just for Draco, who didn't really know what to say.

"How about a compromise?" she asked him as she stared into the distance at the sky.

"What do you mean 'a compromise'?" he asked warily but with curiosity as well.

Hermione looked at her hands as she twisted her school robes around in her small nimble fingers.

"What if I tell you what's wrong with me, if you tell me what's wrong with you?" she asked quietly. She really wanted to know what had caused Draco to cry and now relied on his curiosity about herself to find out.

"You mean, you would tell me why you blame me for throwing up and all that, if I tell you why I was..." His voice faded in the end as he didn't want to remember or remind Hermione of his moment of weakness.

"Yes," she said as she looked into Draco's eyes. She gave him another smile and while he didn't return the favor, she thought he looked a little happier. Hermione held out her hand for Draco to shake for them both to agree to this compromise.

Draco grasped her hand in a firm grip and shook it with grim determination on his face. Hermione's smile widened and she found that it became easier for her to show this happiness around him the more she did it. Her only wish was to get a smile back from him.

And to possibly be his friend.

Oh, and to get a better kiss from him.

Not necessarily in that order.

Hermione and Draco sat in slightly tense silence regarding each other out of the corners of their eyes. Neither of them spoke because neither of them really wanted to start explaining first. The sky had become so dark for late afternoon that they would have had better lighting inside the castle with candle and torch light. The wind had become so fierce that Hermione's hair was blowing into her face, her eyes, and her mouth so that she was constantly trying to push it behind her ears with no success. After doing this for the tenth time in one minute, Draco turned and grabbed both of her hands to stop. Immediately, her hair covered her entire face until she was sure she looked exactly like Cousin It from the Addams Family.

Reaching behind her, Draco pulled the hood of Hermione's robes over her head to cover her hair. Then he pulled out his wand and tapped her head once and the hood did not move at all anymore. He pushed her wavy brown hair out of her face and back into the hood. She had watched him the entire time as he worked and when he had deposited his wand back into his pocket and looked back at her, she suddenly got a bout of shyness.

"Thank you," she said with a slight tremor in her voice. The entire time he had been touching her, hot waves of..._something_ seemed to flow through her body. She was shaking with nerves and, _damn_, the fluttery feeling had returned to her stomach.

_Get a grip, Granger!_

Draco seemed uncomfortable with her appreciation for a moment.

"Well...that was getting really annoying," he said with a sneer. Hermione rolled her eyes and pretended that he had really wanted to touch her instead of just finding her a nuisance.

Hermione decided that she would just go ahead and begin. So looking at the sky, she started her story:

"There was nothing wrong with me until June of fifth year when Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, and I went to the Department of Mysteries and fought with those Death Eaters. You know as well as anyone that I am Muggle-born and after that battle, I think I am as well known as Ron as Harry's best friend. If everyone didn't know that after all of the horrible things Rita Skeeter wrote about me in our fourth year, that is. With Voldemort out in the open and not hiding anymore, I started to worry about my family. I thought that they would become big targets because of me and my relationship with Harry. At least for half of that summer I would be with my parents and try to protect them as best as I could.

"I started to throw up blood almost immediately after that battle and my mum noticed when I went home. We went to the hospital and the doctor—"

"You mean one of those Muggle healers?" Draco interrupted her to ask.

Hermione nodded. "Exactly.

"My doctor gave me medication, saying that I had stomach ulcers that popped from stress, but the medication never worked for me. She—the doctor, that is—sent me to a psychiatrist saying that for a sixteen year old, I had too much stress for medication to do anything. So, I talked to the psychiatrist and told her about what had me worried so much because she couldn't understand why I would be so stressed; especially when it was the summer holidays and I didn't have to think about school. I think she sort of wrote me down as a worrywart," Hermione said with wry laugh, as if she knew much more than her psychiatrist did.

"Obviously, I changed the story around a bit since I couldn't tell her I was a witch and I was afraid that the most evil wizard in the entire world was going to kill my family. But by the way I was talking, I'm sure she thought that I was afraid that anything and everything was going to kill me. She gave me some more medication but it was for curing some sort of phobia...a fear of everything phobia, I don't remember what it's called. Unfortunately, my parents had to pay for it and I threw the pills down the drain. I didn't have a phobia so I wasn't going to walk around drugged. How would I pass exams and school?

"Finally, the psychiatrist wanted to give up on me. I wasn't throwing up as long as I talked to her, even if she was annoying." Hermione turned to Draco for the first time since she started talking and met his curious gaze with an amused smile. "She talked to me like I was less intelligent than a rock." She smiled wider at the memory. "And even though a rock might have given me a run for the money intelligence wise, at least I have hands to raise." As Hermione raised an arm in the air and waved her hand around, Draco gave a snort of laughter, to her very surprise. She looked at him as if she had never seen him before until he sobered up. Then she looked back at the sky and continued again.

"As a last resort, my psychiatrist told me that the only way that would work to stop the ulcers was to get rid of my stress. She suggested that I keep a diary and anytime I start to feel stressed, like when I worry, get angry, scared, or depressed, that I write what I am feeling into the diary. Get all of my feelings, and thus my stress, out. It's the only thing that works. Well, unless I sing," she blushed as she said it, "but I never sing, so I write."

"Why don't you sing?" Draco asked instantly. Hermione wasn't sure if he was really curious or if he was just stalling so that he wouldn't have to talk so soon.

"Me? Sing? That's absurd. No one wants to hear _me_ sing," she answered jokingly. "Besides, how embarrassing would that be if I started singing every time I was angry?"

"So, what, you carry that diary around with you everywhere?" Hermione was too embarrassed to answer. She was starting to feel ashamed of having her diary with her all of the time, then when she put it down, going crazy that she would have a fit and then she would _definitely_ have a fit.

Before she knew what he was doing, Draco had reached into Hermione's pocket and pulled out its contents: her wand, her pen, and her shrunken diary. He quirked his eyebrow at her accusingly but Hermione was already taking back her belongings with an evil glare directed straight at him.

Draco looked as if he was going to say something else but his first question still hadn't been answered.

"So why do you blame _me_ for this?" he asked with annoyance. He didn't want to make Hermione think that he actually felt sorry for her, so he just pretended that he wasn't changed by her story at all and was only interested in what _he_ wanted to know.

Hermione paused for a minute before answering. "I guess I've never been very fair in blaming the Malfoys," she admitted. "But it was a lot easier for me to blame someone that I knew personally and who knew me personally than just to say it was my fault for worrying too much. I guess I could have blamed Voldemort," Draco flinched at the usage of the name, even if its owner was dead, "but everyone blames Voldemort for everything. It was a little more local to blame you.

"I was there, in that store, _Fixation_, when you came in and started that fight with Harry and Ron," she admitted.

"I didn't start that fight!" he countered. "And I definitely didn't see you there."

Now Hermione looked at her hands as she twisted her fingers in her lap.

"I was there...in the back of the store...hiding...from you."

Draco looked astonished before he rid his face of emotion and sneered at her.

"I was afraid of being near you because I didn't want to become angry for whatever you would say about me, my parents, or my friends. Fat bit of good it did me too because when the fight broke up, Harry and Ron came in to yell at me because I wasn't playing 'peacekeeper' for them. I got angry and ran off to puke my guts out, or I should say, puke my heart out. But they followed me into a girls' toilet and I Apparated out, where you bumped into me. That's why when Dumbledore said we would share a common room, I said that you would kill me. I was afraid that being so close to you, I would have reactions every hour or something. But we managed to avoid each other for the most part. Except for what happened that first weekend back."

Draco suddenly remembered that when he had seen Hermione in the Leaky Cauldron, before he had recognized her for who she was, he had wiped something off of her face. With imminent horror, he realized that the smudge of red had to have been blood. He had actually used his _fingers_ to wipe the stuff onto his clean _robes._

And for some reason that he couldn't fathom...he didn't mind anymore...

Hermione fell into silence as she finished her explanation and sat waiting for Draco to start his. She looked everywhere except at his face while she waited. The sky almost seemed to be lightening to a lighter shade of gray. For the first time in over a year, Hermione felt as if a tension had been lifted. Relief flooded her senses for finally talking about her experience and she felt more carefree than she had in a long time. She felt as if she could breathe easier and didn't even mind that she hadn't told Harry and Ron, but Draco Malfoy, about the whole diary ordeal.

His questions had been answered, and he didn't know what to say to the girl sitting beside him. Draco sat for a long time, working up the courage to begin his explanation. He was quite positive that Granger would think he was some kind of nancy-boy afterwards, and it was under no circumstances that _anyone_ would consider a Malfoy a nancy-boy.

When Hermione thought he wasn't going to hold up his end of the bargain, Draco dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled up piece of parchment. He smoothed it out and glanced at it before handing it to Hermione, not even looking at her as he did so. She hesitantly took the parchment, taking a look at the maroon wax seal, which she didn't recognize.

"Read it," he said as his only means of explanation. Hermione supposed that the letter would be self explanatory.

"A-are you sure?" she asked, asking for reassurance that it was alright to read his personal mail.

He nodded, still watching the lake, trying to disconnect himself from the situation.

Hermione unfolded the letter and read:

_Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

_We regret to inform you that your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was attacked in your Wiltshire home this morning, at approximately 9:45 by an unknown party. She has been transported to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for the time being until she wakes from her comatose state. A team of Hit Wizards have begun investigation to find the person or persons responsible and the only piece of evidence has been proven unhelpful. A copy of this discharged evidence has been attached to the back of this letter. If you know of anyone who would want to cause your mother harm, or have any information about this attack, please do not hesitate to contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

The letter was signed by a ministry official Hermione had never heard of. She gasped and looked up from the letter to Draco. He was still staring out at the gray waters but now his lip was quivering uncontrollably. He just managed to keep tears from springing to his eyes and Hermione felt a strange sense of pride at how admirably he was able to control himself.

"I'm sorry," she said. Draco's head snapped towards her to look into her eyes, but he found no pity, just a girl who was there to listen if he wanted to talk and who would not tell anyone if he cried again. Draco suddenly desperately wished that he and Hermione could have been friends. He had never had a true friend before, he had always been taught that no one was to be trusted and that the meaning of 'friend' was really 'lackey'. But Potter, Weasley, and Granger made friendship look inviting and fun. Draco wished that he had a friend like Hermione.

Hermione then remembered the piece of evidence attached to the letter. On a small piece of parchment attached to the back of first page were six simple words written in bold elegant handwriting:

YOU DISMISS YOUR HUSBAND SO EASILY?

"What does it mean, Draco?" Hermione asked as she returned the letter to its owner. She didn't even notice that she had called him by his first name out loud. Draco was slightly stunned that she said it but didn't mention her slip up.

"I've got an idea," he answered instead.

"So you think you know who is responsible for this abomination?" Hermione asked with determination and disgust in her voice.

"Abomination?" Draco asked with a sneer. "Since when did you care about my mum so much?"

Hermione looked perplexed for a moment. But she thought Draco would appreciate the truth more than some sentimental fabricated lie.

"I don't. She's never cared for me so I've never cared for her, but she's _your_ mum." She said this as if Narcissa being Draco's mother explained everything, but he was still confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Hermione began, thinking about the best way to say what she felt. "Even though she never has and probably never will have anything good to say about me, she's still your mother and as long as she doesn't abuse you, you need her. The worst possible thing that could happen to someone, in my opinion, is having something happening to the people that they love. That's why I throw up blood and write in this stupid diary," she finished with contempt. Hermione didn't realize that she had just accused Draco of loving his mother, but _he_ had noticed and he peered at her to see her reaction. Was she baiting him? Making fun of him? But she just stared at the lake just like Draco had a few moments ago. Then she began to speak again.

"You know, Draco," Again, she didn't realize that she was calling him by his given name. "I have cried more in this past year than anytime in my life and as far as I know, you have only cried twice in the past year, _and_ now something has happened to your mum. I think if it were me, I'd have gone into a fit of depression as soon as I received a letter like that. It seems like _I_ cry about every little thing, and I'm tired of crying. It's exhausting and I hate it."

For what felt like the millionth time since he had started sharing a common room with her, Draco felt at a loss of words to Hermione's confession. She had just told him more about herself and her life than anyone had ever told him before. His father had never trusted him with any important information and if the info wasn't important, there was no point in telling it. His mother had always treated him like a son instead of the young man that he was now and when his father died, she had immediately made him the man of the house. But he still didn't learn anything important or worth knowing about her or her life. Crabbe and Goyle? Well, they'd never tell Draco anything either unless he asked for it, and even then their lives were probably too dull for interest. Hermione Granger had just told Draco a great many things about herself, her family, and her fears, and he even thought she had complimented him in some way.

_I'm not weak. I'm stronger than Granger for being able to control myself! _he thought with excitement.

_'But she's just a girl...' _that nasty Lucius voice whispered in his ear, trying to bring down Draco's spirits. _'All girls cry too much...what would be so different with her?'_

_I'm not weak, _he insisted.

_'All girls cry too much...'_

_I'm _not_ weak._

_'What would be so different...?'_

"I'M NOT WEAK!"

Hermione jumped in surprise at Draco's outburst. He looked as if he was seething with his chest heaving and his breathing angry and harsh.

"I didn't think you were," she said honestly. Draco turned his face and looked into her deep brown eyes and only found sincerity. She didn't think he was weak. He _wasn't_ weak.

Looking into his eyes, Hermione saw uncertainty above anything else. He wasn't sure of himself or his feelings, she thought. What had Lucius Malfoy done to his son? Taught him? _Drilled _into him? She had an idea about what "a Malfoy stood for", even though she disagreed with it and thought their ideals were stupid, but what was ludicrous to her, was a way of life to a Malfoy. It seemed as if now, Draco might be reconsidering this way of life. Or if not reconsidering it, he was trying to work into it.

From his outburst, Hermione discerned that he had been in conflict with himself. He thought he was weak and was trying to tell himself that he wasn't. He had to think that either crying or becoming so distressed at the news of his mother made him weak. Otherwise, why would he hide the reason for crying from people, if not because he thought he looked weak? Then he was fighting with himself, trying to convince himself that his actions were not out of weakness. Was he trying to change the way he had been taught, or just the way he looked at the situation to convince himself that he wasn't weak? This was important in trying to change Draco; to turn him from his father's ways and into his own person. An individual.

_Whoa, when did you decide you were going to _change _him?_ she paused her thoughts in contemplation, finding the answer quickly and not as disturbed with her solution than she thought she should have been.

_When I decided that he really is a human being after all..._

"Do you want to be friends?" she blurted out. Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she spoke the words, Draco's gaze was astonished as well. She wasn't sure where the words had come from or why her mouth would betray her in such a way.

"W—what?"

"Oh, never mind! Of course you don't want to be friends with a Muggle-born, or a Gryffindor at that!" she said covering her eyes with her hands in embarrassment.

"Damn straight!" Draco said though he didn't mean the words. He might have considered becoming friends if she hadn't taken back the offer. There was no way he would be the first to bring up such a subject. "I am not one of your charity cases that you can work on and change, and I will not be your laughing stock when you and your stupid friends try to make a fool of me! Not that you would succeed, anyway!"

_Damn. _Why would Draco's mouth betray him in such a way? Now she definitely wouldn't reconsider her offer.

_What the HELL is wrong with you, Draco? _he asked himself. _Since when did YOU want to be _Granger's_ friend?_ He found his answer quickly and did not disagree with the thought right away.

_When I decided that she really is a human being after all..._

She knew what happened to his mum—actually saw him cry over her as well—and had not taunted him, or laughed at him, or degraded him in any way. She allowed him to see apart of herself and her life and sympathized with—not pitied—him about his own ordeal. She offered friendship even if she had taken it back because he was too stupid to say yes right away.

_'Or smart enough not to...' _The Lucius voice whispered dangerously.

Hermione Granger was an intelligent girl, no doubt about that. Draco could respect that even if despised it as well. His father had always been displeased with him because he couldn't beat a Mudblood, and all Draco had wanted to do was please his father and bring honor to the Malfoy name.

_'Fraternizing with a Mudblood does not bring honor to the Malfoy name...'_ the Lucius voice hissed.

_Neither does becoming a Death Eater, old man! _His father's voice quieted, if not disappeared, as he thought that.

Granger was somewhat pretty, at least. Draco turned his head to look at his adversary and corrected himself. She was _very_ pretty. He studied her with her legs drawn up to her chest and her arms clasped tightly around them, except for occasionally when she would rub her hands together to warm her numb fingers from the biting wind. Her robes were flapping around her except for her hood, which he had charmed to be immobile so that Granger's hair wouldn't continue to blow all around her head like a demon. Because the hood was mainly in the way, the only thing Draco could really see of her was her nose which was slightly small and rounded. It was...cute.

Draco's eyebrows rose in surprise at what he was thinking. Granger had a cute nose? She was pretty? Where were these thoughts coming from? But he didn't deny any of them. All in all, Draco found Hermione Granger...interesting. At meals he could sit and watch her even if she was just talking to the two dolts she called friends or eating, or even reading as she was likely to do at meals. In fact, Draco knew for a fact that at breakfast, Granger read the _Daily Prophet,_ at lunch, she would usually be found with a textbook, and at dinner, she read something extra from the library. Usually as she read, she didn't eat too much, but as far as he could tell, she ate enough to stay healthy. It was really easy for Draco to just watch her no matter what she was doing. The way her face glowed in the light of a simmering cauldron was definitely attractive.

Wait a minute...

Okay, Draco Malfoy thought Hermione Granger was attractive. So what? Was it a crime?

_'A crime to your family...'_

_Shut UP, Lucius!_

There was definitely some appeal where Hermione Granger was concerned.

Now all Draco wanted to do was relay the offer of friendship again.

_Do you want to be friends? Do you want to be friends? Do you want to be friends?_ he repeated in his head over and over again, trying to get the words out of his brain and through his mouth.

Draco opened his mouth to speak...

_Do you want to be friends? Do you want to be friends?_

He closed his mouth again, losing his courage...

_Do you want to be friends?_

_Say it already, Draco!_

But Hermione's mouth was opening again and he had lost his chance to speak up.

"Well...would you consider...I mean...if you wanted to...would you like to...?"

"Spit it out, already!"

Hermione jumped and blurted out what she had meant to say.

"How about a truce then?"

Draco seemed startled for a moment.

_She's giving me another offer!_

A truce...that was even better than a friendship...No strings attached...He wouldn't have to play the considerate friend, talk about emotions and whatnot, whatever it was friends did. All he'd have to do was stop calling Granger names and he had already decided he wasn't going to do that anymore. Yes...a truce did sound much more appealing. What was he thinking, wanting to be friends with Granger? He _didn't _need friendship.

"Harry and Ron don't have to be included in this..." she said. Draco quirked an eyebrow at her and strangely enough, she blushed and averted her eyes.

Hermione herself didn't even know what she was doing. First she asked Draco if he wanted to be friends (what was she, stupid? Apparently so...) and even though he had shot her down with harsh words, she was now asking for a truce _and_ excluding Harry and Ron from the deal. Why was she so desperate to be close to Draco? He made her feel uncomfortable even when he was being civil. For example, all of the little flutterings in Hermione's stomach in the past hour...the way she had just blushed now...and her heart had even sped up at that little quirk of an eyebrow. Draco made her nervous and self-conscious...why did she want to be civil with him now? Could this just be because he had listened to her with her problems? Or because she had caught him _crying_ over his _mother_?

All of a sudden, Hermione's fingers were itching to dig in her pocket. She didn't even notice as her hand slipped inside her pocket until she was clutching her ball point pen for dear life. But before she could pull her diary out of the pocket, unshrink it, and begin to write, Draco gave her a searching look, a nod, and spoke.

"If Potter and Weasley aren't in on this...then...I'll accept a truce."

Fluttery stomach.

_Damn._

Hermione extended her hand and Draco took it firmly just like before. The soft skin of his large hands warmed Hermione's own skin. She was very much aware that Draco was watching her, but she just stared at their clasped hands.

Racing heart.

_Damn again!_

It seemed as if that slight attraction towards Draco Malfoy was growing...growing into something more like a crush. And as much as Hermione despised schoolgirl crushes (since she had never really owned one before, they are so pointless. What about her studies?), she realized and accepted that she had one, even if it was on her former enemy.

"I'm not going to start spouting off secrets and crying all over the place because of this," Draco growled as if in warning.

Hermione sighed in annoyance. "I didn't expect you to, Dra—er—Malfoy, because I'm not either!" she said huffily as they released their hold on each other's hands.

They sat for a while, both staring at the lake again. Both of them noticed that the sky had definitely gotten lighter since they began talking. Even the sun was trying to poke out from behind the gray clouds, though it was unsuccessful and the lighting was still dim. Draco and Hermione actually felt comfortable in each other's presence but this was something they hadn't noted of each other yet.

"You didn't answer my question before," Hermione said quietly, finally breaking the silence.

"Which was that again?" Draco asked with his usual smirk, though the Gryffindor girl couldn't see any reason why he would be smirking.

"Who do you think is responsible for...the attack on your mum?"

Draco visibly stiffened at the question, his smirk falling off of his face hopelessly to be replaced with a scowl. Even his eyes seemed to darken to the color of the clouds above them.

"Besides Mum and me, only one other person would be able to break or take off the wards around our manor. These wards were created by this person and only he, Mum, and I would have been able to work the wards." Draco's eyes were now unrecognizable as the pale grey, silver, almost white, irises Hermione had become accustomed to dreaming about. They'd changed to a similar gray color of the tumultuous waters of the lake.

"Who's that?" she asked, putting a cold hand on Draco's arm in a supporting manner, but he jerked his arm out of her grasp. The hairs on the back of Hermione's neck bristled as she thought she knew who Draco was talking about. But it couldn't be him... She dreaded his answer and regretted asking the question.

"My father."

At this announcement, the clouds finally parted and it began to pour.

* * *

**(A/N): AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Review time! What are you all thinking so far? I want to know!**

**Here's a challenge for y'all. Does this chapter remind anyone of a certain song? Well if it doesn't, it should since a song inspired me to write the last scene. Anyone who can guess what song it was and who sings it gets chapter fourteen dedicated to them!**

**Okay, so I am just wondering for future reference what you all expect from the story. Are you expecting (when the romance starts that is) Hermione and Draco to sleep together? And if so, are you expecting a good lemon? Because I am going to tell you right now, I don't think I would be very good at writing a lemon and if I did decide to have Herm and Draco sleep together, I might have to end that scene with words that let you know what they are going to do without describing it. I wouldn't know how to describe sex since I have never had it before. So, I just want to know from my readers what it is you want or expect concerning Hermione and Draco sleeping together and how that should be written. If you all _really_ want a lemon, I will try to provide one. It would mean a lot to me if I got feedback on this because I don't know what I would do if I decided to add this element to Diary of a Songbird. Thank you in advance to the kind people who reply to this inquiry. You guys are the best.**


	14. Diss and Kiss

**(A/N): AAAaaaaahhhhh! I've been attacked by reviews! This chapter is dedicated to **Gino Santangelo **for being the first to figure out that chapter 13 was inspired by the song Cry by Mandy Moore, but what the hay, this chapter is also dedicated to **FaIrYsPaRkLeS99 **who was the second one with the correct answer! And I've been notified that a femur _is_ a leg! What else? Hmmmm...Let's see. **

**I've been informed that one of the lines from my story might offend some people and I would just like to apologize if it did. **Charley** has a point that not _all_ girls cry too much. I know that that was a bit stereo-typical (isn't that a fun word to say?) to write, but let me just say that I am a girl as well, and that because this story is a work of fiction (a _fan_ fiction, to be exact... :P) I am not incorporating my views into the story, even though _I_ do cry a lot. It's just a story and the line was used for a person who had already been prejudiced against people because of their blood line. Lucius just taught Draco to be prejudiced against females as well. It was a stereo-type used and believed by Draco Malfoy, not Jessica a.k.a. I Dream of Draco. And from experience, I know that there are girls tougher than some boys out there, and I'm sorry if I offended anyone. Hey, when I broke my finger, I had these two pins stuck into my bone and sticking out of the top of my finger about a centimeter and yes, the first time I took a good look at it, I cried, but later, I would be moving the tape off of my splint to show people and there were some boys almost screaming when they saw those two metal pines sticking out of my finger... so I'm sorry, again.**

**I would like to take this time to thank everyone who reviewed and everyone who responded to my inquiry about writing a lemon. I must say, I am relieved with the feedback that I got. I mean, those kisses I wrote were horrible (please, don't deny it!) and I think if I even _tried_ to write a lemon, I should just leave the country out of embarrassment. Maybe I will attempt that once I've had more experience with writing, like when I'm in college or something. And I wanted to thank you all for your honesty. Me, I don't like to receive criticism, I'm too easily provoked and will usually start crying if someone says something mean to me. My mom wants me to join JROTC while I am going to school here but I don't think I would do that well in that class. Not only don't I like anyone yelling in my face but I don't really like exercise either. The point is I wanted your honesty about what bothered you about my story and I got it. I think it's good for me to get honest reviews like that, because I handled it well; I did not cry and even though some of the reviews left me a bit indignant, I got over it. But I absolutely don't want flames. If you hate my story, don't tell me, just stop reading and wasting both of our time. But to those who actually do like it...enjoy! Please!**

**FaIrYsPaRkLeS99: You're right, A Walk to Remember _is _one of the best movies ever! I'd forgotten that, so I had to add that onto my profile page. I love getting reviews from the people who can become as obsessed with reading fan fictions as I do (24 hrs a day I'm on the internet reading fics...where do I get the time to write?) especially when it's my story. When I go through a phase of reading a story and not stopping until there isn't anymore, it's usually really good, and I'm ecstatic to assume that you think my story is so good for your time (especially since I know it isn't). And I'm sorry if this isn't soon enough to update. Forgive me. **

**cupidxstruckxme: You actually laughed? Really? That makes me so happy! Thank you!**

**walk.in.the.rain: OHHHHH! I had tears in my eyes reading your review! I was so worried about what my readers would think about chapter 13 but you're right! I should do what feels comfortable for me; my readers should be behind me no matter what I do! That makes me feel better because I just know there are going to be some people who don't like how the story will go. But if they don't like it, that's their fault not mine, right? Thank you so much for your review! I feel like I have a writing guardian angel (lame, I know...) somewhere. Thank you!**

**PrincessPotter: Don't worry...! Draco and Hermione will _not_ be sleeping together anytime soon...That will be later...maybe. I'm not sure how much later, I'll just have to wait and see how long it takes the characters to get to that point. Thank you for your review!**

**Gino Santangelo: I love that song... I was trying to think of a scene where Hermione started to see Draco in a different light and that song popped in my head. Originally I wanted Hermione to sing it but I couldn't remember if the song was written in 1997 or not. I don't think it was. Hahaha! We have the same favorite line in the song! Anyway, I love this song because I love that movie, A Walk to Remember. And I loved Mandy Moore in that movie. Thanks for your review!**

**mrs. skywalker: You were the only one (that's told me, that is) to notice that! Yes, Voldemort is dead, and he won't be coming back, but Lucius (I _did_ say he was dead)...You'll just have to wait and see...**

**vytiri: I was so happy to read your first review! I really don't want my story to be too similar to others. When I started writing it, I had started out with some cliché ideas like Hermione gets a makeover (which I sort of regret writing about now...) and the cliché that they share a common room, but, I'm trying to make it my own, as Paula Abdul says. And the His Dark Materials Trilogy are my favorite books next to Harry Potter. I wish I owned a copy of them though. And thank you for your feedback about my question. It means a lot to me.**

**charley: I'm glad you think that I'm not rushing things. I was a little worried in the last chapter that maybe events between H and D were going too fast but I'm glad you don't think so. Thank you!**

**xx-scratchthat: Yeah, I realize that the secret _was_ a bit cheesey (I'm very much aware that I spelled 'cheesey' wrong). I've know that since the beginning of the story and in previous chapters I have mentioned that I was a bit unhappy with the story and that I like this other one I am writing better. Let me just say that the secret _is_ important; I was having a hard time looking for the right word to describe it, but Herm's reactions and past and all that is vital to H and D's relationship. And just think about this: Hermione has only gone to see a MUGGLE doctor, a MUGGLE psychiatrist, and used MUGGLE medications... Also, Lucius wasn't talking to Draco. Those were Draco's thoughts that his brain manifested to sound like his father. That voice was sort of like his conscience, the part of him that is all Malfoy, reminding him what his father had taught him about being Pureblood and about hating Muggle-borns. So it wasn't really Lucius talking, it was just a voice in Draco's head that sounded like him. Oh and...I don't. Like. Corn. Haha. (Sorry, that's just my weird sense of humor which really isn't that funny.)**

**Babiblue754: Thank you for your feedback about the lemon. I _so_ appreciate it. You are also the only one to ask about my trip! I went to visit my grandma in Alabama. And it was a good trip. The flights were exhausting, I felt really exhausted the entire time we were there too. I am just so glad to be back home with my bed, my cat and my computer... I missed them so much sniffles! My dad's in the military so we are stationed right now in Italy. That's why the flights were so exhausting. You know, I really did like HBP except for the part with Snape in the end. As weird or sad as it may seem, I am in love with Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, and I want one of them to marry me. But you know, even if they were real, they would have no interest in a fourteen year old Muggle girl like me. Then there is the drawback that they're only alive on paper. And evil. sigh **

**(A/N): I would, of course, also like to thank (can you believe there are still MORE?) **Puffy MarshmallowMy-Chemical-Romance-Fan mugglegirl07 nymphadora tonks, True Distortion Nanie-san kates**, and** Deanne**. You guys could not possibly know how happy I was to get so many reviews! I loved that last chapter and it is so important for the story. All of you had wonderful things to say... (A fabulous chapter...really, _my _chapter?) and I've never been more proud of my story (even though the beginning sucks, I know) or my writing skills. I really do think I am becoming a better author the more I write too. Thanks to everyone... I feel like I have friends everywhere... but of course, this isn't about me, it's about the story. Hehe. I'm sorry that my Author's Notes are so long, but I got so many reviews and had a few things to say. Now, enough apologizing and on with the story!**

**Disclaimer: The last time I asked Jo she told me that Harry Potter and Co. is hers not mine. She actually hissed at me too... Actually, I'm lying...I haven't talked to Jo but they are still not mine... sigh.

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**Diss and Kiss:**

Hermione sat on her bed with her diary propped open in her lap. She was currently chewing on the end of her quill, thinking about everything that had transpired in the past two hours by the lake. After it had started to rain, she and Draco had rushed back to the castle soaking wet to take warm (separate!) showers and change into dry robes. Hermione had gone back to her room to take a break and consult her diary while Draco used the bathroom. She'd even had to magically expand the book to fit more pages with all that she had written, and created a table of contents of sorts to organize forty pages of thoughts; that was with writing on the front and back of each page, written in neat miniscule handwriting.

_1. Draco's Problem_

_2. My new perspective of Draco Malfoy_

_3. Including new found "crush" on said person_

_4. A truce? How stupid am I?_

_5. Lucius Malfoy...alive?_

Her thoughts were currently stuck on chapter five of her latest entry. Was that what Draco was implying before the rain interrupted their conversation? He had said that the only three people who would have been able to disable or break those wards would have been his mother, his father, and himself. Someone had broken into Malfoy Manor and attacked Narcissa Malfoy, leaving a note that left the impression that the attacker was angry that Madam Malfoy had moved on from her husband's untimely (though to most people, not unwelcome) demise. What was she expected to do, mourn her husband's death and never get married to or look at another man for as long as she lived?

But if Lucius Malfoy was alive...he very well _would_ have been angry that his wife had moved on, but how was she to know if he was alive? Everyone in the wizarding world—everyone who had been affected by the war—had heard and read about the deaths of every Death Eater killed or about the trials of those prosecuted. There was even an entire article in the _Daily Prophet_ devoted to ridiculing the Malfoy family about Lucius's decision to be a Death Eater, and that Harry Potter had killed him personally.

There had been witnesses for Merlin's sake, who claimed they saw Harry kill Lucius Malfoy! Witnesses!

Or had they not seen what they thought they had? They did live in the wizarding world after all, and magic could be used to cover up just about anything...

_I'll have to talk to Draco about it._ she thought decidedly. Then she marveled at that idea...She and Draco Malfoy actually having conversations! Possibly, _civil_ conversations! And suddenly, she became excited at the prospect of having intelligent discussions with the Slytherin sex god. And just thinking that made her face flush in a surprised and slightly embarrassed blush.

Suddenly, commencing a truce with Draco Malfoy looked like a very good decision indeed, and Hermione realized that even if Harry and Ron had been included in their little deal, the two Gryffindors would never have agreed to it anyway. Hermione sucked on her bottom lip with worry. Her two best friends could never find out about her truce; they wouldn't understand why Hermione would do such a thing and would try to warn her against Draco trying to seduce her or something as utterly ridiculous. Even if the Slytherin was interested her in that way, Hermione was not stupid enough to be 'seduced'. They'd be angry at what they would consider a betrayal and...Would they shun her? Would Harry and Ron never talk to her again? It wasn't even like she and Draco were dating or friends even...if she lost her two best friends, she would have no one except nuisances and a truce... and who knew how long that truce would even hold up?

No, what Hermione and Draco had started would have to remain a secret—from everyone. The Gryffindors would be angry with Hermione—the boys for being a traitor to their house, the girls possibly because she had snagged the Slytherin sex god—and the Slytherins would despise Draco for becoming something remotely close to friends with a Muggleborn Gryffindor. Neither of them would be liked very much anymore.

But then Hermione had an epiphany about the entire situation.

_Albus Dumbledore, you sly old dog! How could you possibly know?_

Unity.

Draco and Hermione—a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, a pureblood and a Muggleborn, a young man and a young woman—had united together—even if it was in a small way. Had Dumbledore known that having to be in each other's presence day in and day out would lead them to...unity? Had he counted on Draco's Slytherin pride and Hermione's Gryffindor sense of prying-into-other-peoples'-business to bring them together?

_He really knows what he's doing,_ Hermione mused to herself. _But how far does he want us to go? _That _was_ the million Galleon question, now wasn't it? How had Dumbledore expected them to unite? In friendship definitely, but what about romantically...or physically? Hermione blushed again thinking about she and Draco...ah, being physical together. He would never.

_Of course not...Dumbledore just wanted us to set an example towards the others of our houses._ But if they kept their truce a secret, they weren't setting any examples. Maybe the Headmaster wouldn't mind if they just became secret friends instead of going public, because Hermione thought it wouldn't be too hard to become friends with Draco now that they had a truce. Actually, she looked forward to making him her friend, but she knew that she should have been less excited about that than she was.

Hermione supposed that deep down inside, she had started that truce with Draco possibly so he could warm up to her, so that he might start to like her as much as she liked him...Which was absurd because up until two hours ago, Hermione had still hated Draco Malfoy, merely finding him attractive. After he had told her about his mum—after she had seen him _cry _for his mum—Hermione had realized that he actually _did_ have a heart. Maybe—and this could be complete rubbish and utterly fanciful on Hermione's part, but a girl could dream, couldn't she?—he could one day direct his heart towards her? She had noticed that he hadn't called her 'Mudblood' in two weeks. Not even in front of his mates.

Draco still taunted Harry, Ron, and Hermione, still smirked and sneered at them and laughed at them...but...he never called her a Mudblood. Hermione thought he seemed to choke on the word whenever he seemed about to say it. Had he decided to stop calling her that, just like she had decided to stop calling him by his surname only? Did that mean he really had wanted the truce?

Why did Draco agree to the truce anyway? So that Hermione wouldn't tell anyone that she had caught him crying? Or that he loved his mum? Was it a mistake on his part when he accepted it? Had he regretted turning down her first offer of friendship and was trying to take the next best opportunity to be her friend? Was he secretly attracted to her? Was he _really_ trying to _seduce her_?

Nah.

Of course not. All of those questions were absurd.

It seemed as if the more Hermione tried to get to know Draco, and the more questions she tried to answer, the more he became a mystery and the more questions that appeared. It seemed as if Hermione was a fountain of never ending questions. Snape would surly think so. She could probably answer as many questions as she asked in the classroom, but these questions...they didn't have answers. The one person who had the answers was the one person Hermione was afraid to be around; not because of her reactions anymore, but because of the way her body seemed to betray her heart.

_My heart?_ _It's just a "crush" It's not like I'm in love with him!_

But Hermione had never been in love before, so how would she know what it would feel like?

_I'll have to ask Ginny about it._

Finally, Hermione added her last few thoughts to her diary and put it back in her pocket. It was almost time for dinner where she would have to meet Harry and Ron but she wanted to finish her conversation with Draco first. Sliding from her bed, Hermione headed out her door to find Draco standing in front of the fire in the common room.

And he was shirtless.

Hermione's tell-tale heart started beating faster at the sight of the smooth pale skin of her nemesis's back. As she walked down the stairs, he turned to look at her and the fluttering in her stomach started up again.

Shirtless...Didn't Draco know how he was affecting her?

Obviously not. Damn him.

Now she stood just in front of him trying to control the flush that lit her face and trying to control her wandering eyes from drinking in his half naked body. The dim lighting of the room, which came from the fire in the hearth, gave Draco a lively glow, making him look less pale than he really was. Shadows danced across the smooth planes of his face and chest and his hair was glinting with gold instead of silver. His eyes—_damn_ those eyes!—were unreadable as always and back to their original faint silver color. Standing as close to him as she was, she noticed that he held a towel and his hair and skin were still damp, water droplets rolling like beads down his skin and dripping from his longer hair.

_Oh...God... Merlin help me!_

Looking back up into his face, he was smirking at her and she realized that against what she didn't want to do, she was staring. Hermione shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the visions Draco's wet form had conjured and trying to regain some of that common sense that she was bestowed with.

The Head Boy and Girl sat in separate armchairs opposite each other. Draco was using the towel to continue to dry his face, hair and chest, and Hermione was staring into the fire, forcing herself to keep her eyes off of the Slytherin.

_Must he do that, though?_

Was he trying to drive her crazy?

Because if he was...

...it was working.

In fact, before she could go insane, Hermione might have suffocated because as she sat staring into the fire, waiting for one of them to speak first, she had been holding her breath. Upon realizing this, she released it slowly, nervously turning her head to take in Draco's sitting form.

Still no shirt.

Aw, damn him to hell!

"Could you _please_ put a shirt on?" she asked. As hard as she tried, Hermione could not keep the pleading tone from her voice. Now Draco was smirking even more, if possible, with his arms crossed over that lovely chest of his.

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you? Too hot to handle, am I?" he said, but he made no move to cover himself up. In fact, he stood from his chair probably just so Hermione could see him better.

Hermione was about to throw a scathing remark when she noticed—_could it be?—_the teasing glint in his eyes. He was teasing her! So he wanted to play that game, did he?

She stood from her chair with what she hoped was a mischievous look on her face. Slowly, she circled Draco's amused figure and confidently ran a finger along his shoulders, back, and chest. Inside, Hermione was reduced to a quivering mound of jell-O but she tried to keep the confident air about her. She wanted nothing more than to examine him completely, starting from his chest and ending with his eyes.

Draco watched as she prowled around him, touching him with feather light touches, neither of them noticing the goose bumps that now covered his skin. With one glance to his face, she saw the serious thinness of his mouth as if he was compressing his lips together and his eyes had darkened again. But Hermione noticed that he wasn't angry...it was something else entirely... His eyes were fastened on her face, on her eyes and she used this distraction to her advantage. She pulled her wand from the pocket of her robes without alerting him to what she was doing.

"Well...yes, I suppose you _are_ too hot to handle!" and with those words she pointed her wand at Draco's pants and conjured the harmless blue flames that Harry and Ron had come to know her for.

With a yelp, Draco jumped in the air and grabbed a pillow off of the couch, trying to put out the flames by beating his arse. Hermione was bent double laughing at him, her gut aching. She knew the flames wouldn't hurt him, as she had set fire to Professor Snape with them once, before scooping them into a jar. It was a handy little spell that she had used plenty of times.

As Draco finally extinguished the flame, Hermione was rolling on the ground, still laughing at the expression on Draco's face when he discovered what she had done. But looking up at his face, her laughter quickly died. He was livid with her. From where she lay on the floor, Hermione could barely see his eyes but from the little light provided, she saw that they were as dark as steel with anger. He was baring his teeth and breathing heavily, probably trying to control himself from an outburst. Hermione gulped.

"What the _hell_ did you think you were doing?" he asked through clenched jaws as he reached down and clamped a large warm hand on Hermione's upper arm and jerked her from the ground into a standing position with incredible strength. Even though now she was a bit frightened by his anger, Hermione couldn't help but savor the warmth of his hand on her arm, even if she was being held with a grip of steel that matched Draco's eyes.

"I was only teasing, you stupid ferret! The flames wouldn't have hurt you!" She was teasing him again, though she wasn't quite sure how Draco would take teasing from her.

But his body was still quaking with fury and he didn't take his eyes off of her or let go of her arm. Hermione became distinctly aware of how close he had pulled her to him; barely a hands breadth of space separated his thin torso from her own body. Then Hermione had another idea of a way to convince him to let her go.

"I've used it on Professor Snape before..."

This remark did pique Draco's curiosity. His grip on her upper arm lessened and he took another step away from her. Even his facial expression calmed.

"You—you've set fire to Professor Snape?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione nodded and smiled, getting back into the fun of their previous teasings.

"Yes—at Harry's first Quidditch game. When his broom went out of control, I scanned the crowds with binoculars and found Professor Snape muttering very fast. I thought he was jinxing the broom instead of saying the counter-curse."

Finally, Draco let go of Hermione and she took the time he was processing that information to smooth her robes and pat her immaculate hair.

"You really set fire to Professor Snape and—and—lived?"

Hermione nodded. Now she was giving him a mysterious smile that she hoped made him think she had a lot of secrets she could share. He was definitely looking at her strangely. His eyes, she was trying to read, looked...impressed?

_Is he impressed with me, really?_

Didn't every girl want to impress the guy of their hearts?

_Again with the hearts...you don't love him, Hermione! That's for the poor romantics who have nothing better to do than read romance novels and plot ways to 'get noticed' by boys. You are _not_ one of those girls._

_I'll still have to talk to Ginny about this though. _she thought back.

But she was pleased that he was impressed. She didn't even think that he _should have been_ impressed with her integrity and intelligence but suddenly, if rule breaking was going to give her more looks like that from Draco Malfoy...she definitely wanted to break more rules.

Coming out of her thoughts, Hermione noticed that Draco was now pulling his school robes on.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Draco gave her another strange look, and then smirked. "I thought you wanted me to get dressed?"

"What gave you that idea?"

_Oh, God. Why did you say that? _Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth, and shook her head furiously.

"That's NOT what I meant!" she said under her hand but loud enough for Draco's ears. "Yes—get dressed—and STAY dressed—I don't want to see you without clothes again—don't you dare smirk at me like that!" because he was now indeed smirking at her flustering and blushing quite prettily. "You are insufferable!"

"Maybe so," he started, taking a step closer to Hermione until she just barely had to move and her breasts would brush against his now robed chest. Her breathing became a little ragged at his proximity and her heart was pumping. The fluttering in her stomach was replaced by a strange ball of heat that she knew went directly to her face and created a blush among everything else.

Draco pushed a lock of her now smooth wavy hair behind Hermione's ear. She trembled with his warm touch and took a step backwards. This did nothing to deter whatever it was Draco was out to do because he took a step towards her again. Every time Hermione stepped back, Draco advanced on her until she was backed against the wall in front of the staircase to the Head Boy's room. Now she was trapped.

"But you are the one who set my ass on fire." He did not sound angry at all as he said this. He sounded more like he was informing Hermione of what she did "Now you need to be punished."

Hermione was not expecting to hear this at all. What was he going to do to her?

"Punished?" she asked in a tiny squeak.

Draco nodded and smirked. With Hermione backed against the wall, and his body so close to hers, she really had no way of escape. Not that she would have been able to move anyway; her knees felt like jelly and her mind wasn't even thinking of fleeing.

One of Draco's hands drifted towards Hermione's face and cupped her cheek. Her head tilted into his palm and just relished the feel of him touching her.

_So warm..._ she thought. Her mind was clearly under Draco's spell, or was it her heart?

Hermione hadn't even noticed when Draco's free hand was placed gently on her waist, but as soon as she realized it, all she could think of was the heat that his body radiated into her cold one. Strangely enough, while on the outside she had goose bumps and her skin felt cold to the touch, on the inside Hermione felt as if lava was flowing through her veins. Every beat of her heart was loud enough that she thought Draco could have heard it and her breaths had become fast and shallow. Did he have no idea what affect he was having on her? None at all?

Draco dipped his head towards Hermione's face and her whole body tensed. He was going to kiss her! She tried to resist the kiss as he pressed his warm lips onto hers, but he held her face firmly, and besides, after a second she found that she didn't want the kiss to end. She wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, playing with his hair, which she noticed was a lot longer than when he slicked it back. Her fingers twisted around blond locks and tugged gently, which caused Draco to growl. The sound was not of pain but of...she wasn't sure exactly; the vibrations from his utterance sent sparks from her lips to her toes. Suddenly, she was pulled closer to his hard body as both of his hands circled her waist and tugged her towards him. Hermione's arms tightened around his neck, trying to pull him into the kiss and wishing he would deepen it more.

But that was not to be...

Draco pulled his head back from Hermione's face slowly, ending the kiss that seemed to rock Hermione's world. She had never been kissed in such a way. Not by Viktor Krum who had been too passionate and commanding in his kisses for Hermione's liking and not with Ron who had been a bit clumsy. Her lips were still puckered slightly and her eyes were still closed as Draco looked down at her face.

"Maybe I should set your ass on fire more often..." she murmured absently, still lost in the sensations his kiss had created in her body.

"What?" Draco asked with a real, genuine smile.

A loud clap of thunder interrupted their moment, making Hermione give a small shriek and jump out of Draco's arms. As she looked around the room in fright, she missed the look of disappointment that crossed Draco's face when she let go of him.

Ever since she was a little girl, Hermione had always hated thunderstorms. She found the sound of thunder and pelting rain terrifying and had never grown out of this fear. The fact that the two could even hear the thunder from deep within the castle only terrified her more.

When her heart slowed down from the rush of adrenaline from the kiss and the fright, Hermione looked back at Draco, whose eyes were dark and stormy and whose face was unreadable.

_He kissed me..._

_I kissed him back!_

Then, _What did I SAY?_

"I said it's time for dinner," Hermione mumbled embarrassedly, darting sideways out of Draco's reach and nearly sprinting for the portrait hole.

Draco was confused and only watched Hermione as she left out of the portrait hole. Hermione on the other hand, was even more confused and filled with conflicting emotions.

'_This is what you've wanted for—like—ever! Why did you run, you stupid girl! HE initiated that kiss...he _wanted_ to kiss you!'_

_Shut up! We only started a truce today, why would he want to kiss me? He said so himself, that was punishment for setting his pants on fire!_

_'Punishment as in, 'you naughty girl, Hermione, you' not 'here's a detention for setting fire to me and my favorite teacher,' punishment!'_

Hermione wasn't sure what to think about that.

'_You know you liked it...'_

_Of course I liked it! It was brilliant, absolutely wonderful! There were fireworks and everything, but Draco Malfoy is Harry and Ron's enemy! He's MY enemy!_

_'Not since you started that truce...and besides, didn't you start a truce so that something like this would happen?'_

_I didn't expect it to be so soon..._

Her thoughts seemed to ping pong across her brain, one side defending the kiss, and the other side quite unsure about the whole ordeal. A list of pros and cons was quickly created in her mind but there were as many points towards the kiss as there were against it. She knew that a scene like that one had been exactly what her heart had been waiting for but her mind had not been ready for the turmoil and confusion she would feel.

It seemed as if that intelligent conversation she and Draco had started would have to wait, because she _really_ needed to talk to Ginny.

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**(A/N): So? What do you think? Is this more romantic for ya? I know that it still wasn't wonderful...I have no idea how I will be able to write to get people to have physical reactions to my descriptions, but whatever. I think thisone wasa lot better than the Chapter 12 kisses. In the next chapter, we will see what Draco was thinking about that kiss, and a sleepover in the Head Girl's room with Ginny.**

**Okay, it's review time now! You know what that means, right? Click on the little button in the bottom left hand corner...** **Come on people...maybe I can reach one hundred reviews this time around! Remember my goal to reach 100 by Chapter 15? Let's make that a reality!**

**Oh, and as for the song that inspired Chapter 13, it was Cry by Mandy Moore. If anyone wants to see the music video and hear the song, there is a link in my profile (use the second one, I don't know why the other one got screwed up). If anyone wants the lyrics, **Gino Santangelo** was kind enough to include them in their review, so just check out the reviews for Chapter 13.**

**Now let me just get this out of the way right now. I am going to try to get another chapter posted in the next two weeks but once school starts (August 31st), I may not be able to update as frequently. I know, it's horrible, but what can I do? I could always quit school...or burn the building down...but that wouldn't be a good idea. Besides, it's my Freshman year! I can't skip my first day of highschool! Alright then, see you in Chapter FIFTEEN!**


	15. Thoughts of Love and Confusion

**(A/N): ONE HUNDRED REVIEWS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! This chapter will be dedicated to **Jess **who was the 100th reviewer! But really, I must thank everybody...I never knew I would reach one hundred and as I was saying to my brother, it took eleven chapters to get to fifty and four chapters to get sixty-one more! I just have to thank everyone! You all keep the story alive and you _all_ contributed to the cause (the one hundred reviews cause!)!**

**walk.in.the.rain: The only thing I can say to you is that I look forward to your reviews. They give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Okay, maybe I can think of more... This review made me just as happy as the last one! Thank you, I need the encouragement!**

**charley: I'm sorry if it seems as if Harry and Ron have been out of it for awhile...I guess they have. They will be in this chapter for a bit but it isn't much. They just aren't that important for this part of the story. I promise they will have more involvement in future chapters. **

**-i-like-pears-: Thank you for notifying me of that, and thank you for your review! And cool name!**

**Nanie-san: Mmmm...Honeduke's chocolate...(Homer Simpson drool) I'm excited about the story too! I feel good because I am finally getting somewhere! And I think this is pretty soon to update. Maybe I will have time for another chapter before school starts up again (why does the school want to bother my summer vaca.? Do they just hate me or something? Not to mention the useless-ness of parents...Sorry, but my parents have just been the biggest buggers this week...)**

**jc 2021: Thank you for your review Jackie...when you were telling me on messenger that you liked this story, I seriously thought about not telling you that it was my story...but I like it better that you know. Okay, I updated then! Calm down!**

**Jess: Yes, my name is Jessica...and sadly, no, I don't dream of Draco...or Snape...well, I think I had one dream with Draco in it but I don't remember what it was. I did have a dream the other night that I was going to a ball and my mom had bought me some pretty sage colored robes...but no Draco...or Snape (Sorry, but I like Snape too...hehe.)**

**Babiblu754: I told you that it was a little sad that I liked Snape...oh well. I've known that I was weird since fourth grade. But I guess I just like the Alan Rickman character, sexy beast that he is...sorry if you didn't want to hear that, or read, I should say. Tom Felton isn't a bad looking fellow either...not at all. At least for someone closer to my age (he's turning 18!). Alan Rickman is like fifty-nine. Hehe. I'm nervous about this school year too, but at least I am not going to a different school. I'll _only_ have totally different teachers and the building is being reconstructed so I will _only_ have to figure out where all of my classes are. And my best friend is in the hospital in the States...how am I supposed to get through my first day of school without her? Oh, well...I still have my lovely readers!**

**Gino Santangelo: Thank you so much for your review! I totally agree with you now. If someone doesn't like what I do with _my_ story, then really that's their problem. Fanfiction dot net is a place for people to post their stories and get feedback from readers. It can be a site where people write for other's entertainment but really, the author is God for their story. I'm sorry that I didn't make Hermione sing that song. I do hope to have her sing later (I already know she will in the last or second to last chapter) but I really wanted to keep this story as close to canon as possible. I wanted to keep songs in the story from the Harry Potter time period. But my next story (which will not be posted yet and will be a Snape/Hermione fic) will have lots of music from any year. That won't be until after this story though. But thank you so much. I always feel good after reviews like this one!**

**(A/N): And my other reviewers are appreciated as well: **Feltonsgirl90210, teecy, xx-scratchthat, My-Chemical-Romance-Fan, mugglegirl07, True Distortion, PrincessPotter, mrs. skywalker**, and** MIDNIGHT-PIXIE**. And I would also like to specially thank **jc 2021** for all her help with this chapter. She, like, helped beta this chapter and tardily told me that dis is spelled with one s.**

**Disclaimer: I thought that if I left this for the last minute, Harry Potter and Co. might actually be mine but to my own disappointment...that wasn't true. Hehe. It all belongs to J.K ROWLING, people! The only thing I own is the plot!

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****Thoughts of Love and Confusion:**

Draco watched as Hermione left through the portrait hole, as if she were being chased by the devil himself, with slight disappointment and much amusement. But the small smile that had lit his face after her cheeky remark quickly disappeared to be replaced with a frown that clearly displayed his confusion. His mind was a mix of emotions and thoughts, part of him was horrified that he had kissed Hermione Granger and part of him was congratulating himself. Suddenly, he felt exhausted and he rubbed his face tiredly before sitting back down in one of the cushy arm chairs by the fire.

He knew that he was attracted to Hermione. Draco couldn't deny it after kissing her. Not only was she the most intelligent witch in the year—if not in recent Hogwarts history—but she was extremely beautiful without that horrible bushy hair. She was actually funny as well, he had been surprised to find out, unfortunately, at his own expense, and when she laughed...her laughter lightened the room incredibly. Draco realized that he was falling for Hermione Granger, despite being Muggle born, despite befriending werewolves, Potter, and the Weasley clan, and he wasn't _at all_ sure if this was good or bad.

_'Of course it's bad, Draco...' _and Draco was getting extremely tired of hearing his father's voice when he was trying to make decisions. He knew that it was actually himself, reminding him of his upbringing but every time he heard that voice in his head, he felt like doing the exact opposite of what it wanted. Just to spite the memory of Lucius Malfoy. He guessed that meant he had been perfectly fine thinking that his father was dead.

Now his thoughts were shifting to Lucius. Draco knew very well that it was likely his father was alive. It would be just like him to fake his death and go into hiding to escape the wrath of the Order of the Phoenix and the members of all the families he had helped to destroy. But what Draco couldn't understand, or was having the most trouble dealing with, was why Lucius would attack his wife, who he had claimed to love. Would he really put Narcissa into a magical coma? The ministry hadn't even told Draco exactly how his mother was attacked, what had caused her to go into a coma. Would Lucius really sink so low as to attack his wife out of rage or jealousy? In all of his years, Draco had never seen Lucius physically attack Narcissa and he had never laid a hand on Draco himself. Was it at all possible that the senior Malfoy was alive?

And what did this mean for Draco?

After the war, when his family had been informed about Lucius's death, Draco had not felt anything at all for the man who had fathered him. He hadn't cried—but then, he never cried—er—usually—but if it had been Narcissa instead of Lucius, Draco would have been out for Potter's blood...and he would have cried. Did this mean he didn't love his father?

_No—but I don't particularly care for him either._

That was true. Draco really didn't care. Lucius had never bothered to properly raise his son; he hadn't disciplined him except with words that made Draco feel useless so why should he care about his father's wellbeing?

_"That Mudblood beat you again, Draco? If you can't even beat a useless girl, how do I know you will be able to take over Malfoy business when it's your time?"—"It was entirely humiliating to watch Potter beat you at Quidditch..."—"Must I tell you again? Have you no memory for simple commands?"—"No son of mine comes in second; if you can't beat the Mudblood at anything, then you must not be a Malfoy."—_ And the worst one of all – _"You could never bring honor to the name Malfoy!"_

For all of his life, Draco had tried to live up to his father's expectations; he had tried to please his father, but it never seemed as if he could reach the bar that others had set too high. Lucius didn't have the patience for a child, so Draco had had to grow up faster than he would have liked, but most of the time, he still acted like a child. Draco was spoiled and shown love by his mother, but his father treated him as an accomplice rather than the boy he was.

If anything, Draco really would have liked to talk to Granger about his father before dinner, but it seemed as if he had scared her away.

He smirked in the dim room, remembering the way Hermione had reacted after the kiss, but remembering the kiss only gave Draco a headache because he wasn't ready to deal with the emotions running through his head.

_Yes—I am attracted to Hermione Granger. _He had already admitted this to himself. What he wasn't sure of was _when. _When _had_ he become attracted to her? Ever since the first day of classes this year, Draco had kept an eye on her; he'd watched her in class and at meals, and he hadn't really noticed doing it. But it kept his mind off of his stupid not-yet-fiancé who liked to "make up for time lost while Drakie was with the ugly Mudblood all the way on the fourth floor." Stupid Pansy. She couldn't see what was clearly in front of her pug face.

_No—I don't want to marry Pansy, or sleep with Pansy, or have children with Pansy. _Definitely not. The idea was sickening to begin with. Draco personally thought he was too young to get married, and he didn't want to have kids yet—least of all with Pansy—but it was his familial duty. This arrangement had been made when he was two and would be a pain in the ass to get out of—if he could get out of it that is.

But...

He _could_ see one person he didn't think would make such a bad wife or mother of his children He wouldn't mind waking up beside her every morning or going to bed with her every night and she _would_ be a fountain of intelligent conversation. She might not be that bad in bed either...Why couldn't he be forced to marry _her_ instead?

'_Because she's a Mudblood. Get her out of your mind. If you want to fuck her, fine, but you will _not _marry her.' _

_I know I'm not going to marry _her_...I'm betrothed to Pansy. It's my duty to marry her and have a ton of chubby, blonde, pug-faced kids with her._

Thinking about the future like this was giving Draco a bigger headache and a morbid feeling. He didn't want to think about Pansy. He didn't want to think about Lucius. He wanted to go to dinner and go to bed where he would be haunted by dreams of Hermione Granger's beautiful brown eyes. Though these dreams usually left Draco feeling bereft—as if he was missing out on something wonderful, a feeling he never understood when he woke up—he liked to have them. In these dreams, he thought he was closer to getting to know Hermione Granger and her secrets than during the day. Just a few minutes ago, though, he had found out one of her secrets.

She had set Professor Snape on fire.

And lived.

He didn't know the specifics of why she had done that, but he had seen the smile in her eyes that had told him that only a select few people knew she had done it. What other things had she done that few were aware of? Did she steal potion ingredients from Snape as well?

Draco snorted. That would be a laugh. He highly doubted that Hermione Granger of all people would have the nerve to steal from Severus Snape. What would she do with the ingredients anyway? Brew a restricted potion? That _was_ a laugh.

So Draco laughed. He laughed until his sides hurt and was rolling around on the floor. There could be nothing more ridiculous than that.

_Unless she was carrying my baby...now _that_ would be funny! Hermione Granger, _pregnant_? Or better yet, _sexually active_? God, I crack myself up sometimes._

After letting out some of that nervous energy, Draco was ready to really start thinking. He climbed back into his chair and stared into the fire, thinking back over that kiss.

Goose bumps had formed across Draco's skin as Hermione ran her fingers over his back, chest, and shoulders. At least, he had blamed it on cold fingers; maybe he'd gotten goose bumps because _she _was touching him. Any thoughts he might have been thinking at the time had been interrupted by the bluebell flames which had been warm but hadn't burned his skin or damaged his pants. Then Draco had seen that she was teasing him. Mainly he had been angry because when he had first seen the fire on his pants, he had gotten...scared—yes, scared. His heart had been beating ferociously in his rib cage and Draco wasn't sure how to release that anger without hexing Granger into smithereens. Especially after he saw that she was still teasing him. Well, he'd teased her back.

He hadn't meant to kiss her, but she just looked so innocent and beautiful staring up at him with fear in her eyes when he had told her that she needed to be punished. She had had no clue what he was talking about and he really hadn't wanted to hurt her. With her trapped between himself and the wall, Draco had been so close to Hermione's body that he could smell her tropical scented shampoo that she had washed her hair with just an hour before. And she'd been standing in front of him with her mouth parted ever-so-slightly just _inviting _him to kiss her.

The strangest thing had happened as he pressed his lips onto hers: he'd felt a jolt-like shock starting from his lips and nesting in his groin. Draco was surprised when she actually responded and wrapped her arms around his neck. His blood had been simmering—he could have sworn he could really feel the heat in his veins—from her touch and her lips had been cold. When she started tugging at his hair...Draco could have lost control...he'd wanted nothing more than to hold her tight and kiss her into oblivion...among other things he'd never wanted to do with Hermione Granger before. Draco couldn't help it, but he liked the way her body had felt pressed him. She felt lean and just—perfect; as if her body had been made to fit against his.

Then he had pulled away and ended the kiss slightly dazed but—strangely—very much happy. Hermione had looked dazed as well as she had kept her eyes closed and still left her lips slightly parted. _"Maybe I should set your ass on fire more often..." _she had said. Thinking about those words, Draco smiled. She had enjoyed the kiss as much as he had if she was willing to sacrifice Draco's arse for more kisses. The sobering thought was that...Draco thought he would sacrifice his arse just to kiss Hermione again too.

Draco sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. He hadn't bothered to gel it back after his shower so now it hung down just brushing the top of his shoulders. How it had ever stayed plastered to his head with gel at its current length, he would never know but he kind of liked it _not _gelled back. It was less trouble and Hermione seemed to like it alright.

Draco sighed again as these thoughts traipsed across his brain.

_So now I'm going to dress to her liking, too?_

He had no idea how or when but Draco was very much afraid that he had fallen for Hermione Granger... and he had fallen hard.

* * *

Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall around three very wet but slightly cheery friends. 

"How was Quidditch?" she asked in what she hoped was a steady and calm voice. She still had yet to recover from the Earth shattering kiss.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny smiled at her as they filled their plates with chicken, mashed potatoes, rice with gravy, and dinner rolls.

"Actually, it was really good—even with the rain," Harry answered shortly, knowing Hermione didn't know much or care for specifics of their training.

"Harry called off practice when the thunder and lightening started, though," Ron said. Hermione nodded in understanding and looked up at the ceiling which reflected the sky outside. Sure enough, she could see flashes of lightening and rain pouring from a black sky that seemed to go on forever.

"Hermione, have you been making out with someone?" said Lavender Brown, who was unfortunately sitting beside Harry who sat directly across from Hermione.

Hermione looked up at Lavender startled and then looked at Harry, Ginny, and especially Ron.

"Wh—what?"

"What are you talking about, Lavender?" Ron asked heatedly, glaring at the brown haired girl before studying Hermione himself.

Lavender 'harrumphed' Ron, probably still sore with him for the way he had broken up with her the previous year, but it didn't matter because her best friend Parvati Patil answered instead.

"Just look at her! She's the epitome of a girl whose just been kissing someone. Her lips are swollen and she's even blushing!"

Hermione was indeed blushing now. Harry and Ginny were looking at her as if they couldn't believe Hermione Granger could have been kissing someone just a while ago and Ron just looked slightly hurt and confused.

"I've not been "making out" with anyone!" Hermione said indignantly but her blush just gave her away. Lavender and Parvati watched her as if ready to gather any gossip they could collect, dissect, and return to the public later, while Ron still looked at her with that same expression on his face. "I haven't!" she said possibly too loud since a few Gryffindors and some Ravenclaws from the next table over turned to see what the commotion was all about.

"Okay, okay. I believe you," Ron conceded. Turning back to his plate and stuffing his face again. Everyone else wasn't as sure as Ron but returned to their business to avoid Hermione Granger's wrath.

As she didn't have anything with her to read, Hermione ate her meal in silence while the Quidditch players continued their talk about their training and strategies. Movement from the doorway across the hall caught her attention and she looked up just in time to see Draco walk into the Great Hall and head towards the Slytherin table. She couldn't help but notice how gorgeous he looked with his hair down like that and knowing what was underneath those robes... He met her eyes and Hermione looked back down again, blushing furiously. She hoped beyond hope that no one noticed the acknowledgement between the two Heads.

Finally able to risk lifting her head from her plate again, Hermione looked up at Ginny and cleared her throat. Harry stopped talking immediately and both he and his girlfriend gazed at their friend.

"I really need to talk to you after dinner, Ginny," Hermione said neutrally, not giving anything away about her emotions or what she wanted to talk about from her tone of voice.

Ginny nodded. "Sure."

Then Hermione had an idea and smiled brightly. "Hey! Why don't you sleepover in my dorm tonight? Tomorrow's Sunday, no classes!"

Ginny smiled as well. "I'd love to! Is that even allowed, Miss Head Girl? And I should shower first," the red-headed girl replied in a rush as she pulled at her wet and muddy training robes.

"I have no idea if it is allowed. I guess we will just have to find out tonight, won't we?" Hermione smiled mischievously. "If you want you can use my shower. It's more private."

"Oh! I'd love to, Hermione! Let me just go get some clothes, alright?"

As Ginny rose from the table Hermione said, "Meet me at the portrait of the girl in the purple dress on the fourth floor." The youngest Weasley nodded and left for the Gryffindor common room.

"Wow..." Harry started, "that made her forget what I was saying fast."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry! I didn't mean to break up your conversation!" Hermione said, stricken.

Harry just waved his hand as if to push her worry aside. "Don't worry about it. It was just Quidditch."

Hermione watched Harry as he finished his dinner and sighed. She loved that he had a girlfriend like Ginny. They were perfect for each other. She only wished that she could one day find someone that she could love as much as she suspected Ginny loved Harry.

"Are you happy?" Hermione asked all of a sudden. Harry looked up and looked slightly confused.

"Happy about what? I'm happy that our training was good. I'm happy that I'm not at the Dursleys'. I'm happy that Voldemort is gone, but I'm _not_ happy about that four foot long essay Snape—the bastard—assigned us. Though, I have a feeling that that's not what you meant."

Hermione nodded. "Does Ginny make you happy?" At the mention of Ginny, Harry immediately smiled and nodded stupidly. "Are you in love with her?" This question brought Harry back down from Cloud Nine.

"I don't know. I really like her but I only went out with her for a while last year and only two months now. All I know is that I am happiest when I'm with Ginny Weasley."

Hermione was afraid of hearing that.

"Why? What's up, Hermione?"

But Hermione really didn't want to answer any questions. She waved off the question and stood from the table, not hungry enough to stay in the Great Hall and anxious to talk to Ginny.

"It's nothing right now, Harry. I'm just confused and tired. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight. Goodnight, Ron."

"'Night, Hermione," both boys chorused back.

As Hermione left the Great Hall, she was unaware of the silver eyes that followed her out the door, the owner of such eyes blatantly ignoring one Pansy Parkinson squealing beside him.

* * *

"Do you really think she's been kissing someone, Harry?" Ron asked his best friend uncertainly as the doors to the Great Hall shut after Hermione. 

Harry shook his head slowly, staring down at his plate. He had no idea what Hermione might have been up to but he had noticed that she seemed kind of lost all throughout dinner. Something was bothering her and he knew that she wanted Ginny to help her figure it out. And since she had asked Harry whether he was happy with his Ginny, Harry thought her problems were most likely guy related.

"I'm not sure, Ron." He shrugged. "What does it matter anyway? You guys are broken up. I guess it's time for her to move on," he said quite tactlessly.

Ron wasn't particularly happy to hear that. He frowned at his food and for once in his life, had lost his appetite at the thought of Hermione—_his_ Hermione—with someone else.

* * *

No sooner had Hermione made it to the portrait hiding the Heads' common room than Ginny came around the corner, carrying an overnight bag and still wearing her muddy Quidditch robes. As the red-headed girl met Hermione in front of Elizabeth, both girls smiled while Ginny looked up at the panting, impressed. The Head Girl gave the password and climbed through the portrait hole. An amazed gasp came from the youngest Weasley as she took in the décor of the common room, her eyes gazing with wonder at the balcony and alcove library. 

"This place is yours?" Ginny asked, unable to hide the excitement and envy from her voice.

Hermione nodded. "And Dr—er—Malfoy's," she said, just barely catching herself from calling Draco by his first name. Her friend didn't notice as she was now scanning the bookshelves for familiar titles. "Come on. I'll give you the grand tour."

Ginny eagerly followed Hermione as she was shown around the common room and taken upstairs to the Head Girl's dorm room. Everything fascinated her as it seemed like to be Head Girl and Boy would mean living in luxury compared to the regular house common room.

"And this is the bathroom," Hermione said as she placed her palm on the smooth slab of wood which magically unlocked at her touch and pushed the door open. Ginny stepped inside and gasped, sheltering her eyes with her hands from the bright, white tiles that covered wall and floor. Stepping into the middle of the room, she spun in a fast circle, taking in the beautiful private bathroom.

"This is amazing, Hermione! You are so lucky!"

Hermione watched Ginny with an amused smile on her face as her closest girl friend spun around the bathroom like a little girl lost in a candy shop, relishing everything around her and wishing she could have it herself.

"I'll leave you to shower then. If you run the tap, both doors lock and Malfoy can't get in from his room," Hermione told Ginny before exiting the bathroom to change into pajamas. As she waited for her friend to reemerge from the bathroom, she decided to write a bit more in her diary; about the kiss, about what had happened at dinner, about her confusion. She was starting to feel overwhelmed with emotion when Ginny came back out in her pajamas, her hair still wet and her Quidditch robes somewhat clean and dry with a couple of quick spells.

"Just toss your bag anywhere," Hermione said, so Ginny threw her belongings underneath the window and jumped onto the bed, bouncing a little bit before settling down onto her back. Hermione lay down on her back beside her friend, but while Ginny was smiling like there was no tomorrow, Hermione was still introspective and lost in her thoughts and confusion.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Ginny asked, turning to face the other girl and propping her body up on one elbow.

Hermione continued to stare at the gold canopy above her head, watching as the dim lighting in the room created watery shapes in the smooth satin.

Finally, the brown haired girl spoke up, posing the same question to Ginny that she had asked Harry.

"Are you happy?"

Ginny wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"What do you mean? What am I supposed to be happy about?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation.

"You're not _supposed_ to be happy about anything, but are you happy with Harry?"

"I'm extremely happy with Harry. Why do you ask?" Ginny answered like a recitation while nodding her head.

But the Head Girl ignored that second question and continued her inquiry.

"Do you love him?"

Ginny seemed shocked to be asked such a question but smiled brilliantly and glared at the girl suspiciously.

"I feel like I have loved Harry forever. I care about him so much that I would give my life for his—I think. I've never had to be in a sacrificial situation so I can't safely say." Her face turned serious as her answer became more complicated. Hermione hung on to every word, gathering any information that might help ease the turmoil in her mind. "But last year, even though he broke up with me to protect me, I was so worried for him while he fought You-Know—uh—Voldemort. I stayed with you and Ron by his side in his room at St. Mungo's as he recovered and I wanted nothing more than to hold him when he woke up."

Speaking of the Last Battle and how it had affected Harry and Ginny's relationship caused tears to form and fall silently from the red-headed girl's eyes. She wiped the tears away impatiently—not one for crying, usually—and smiled shakily at Hermione, who could only watch on in sympathy.

"It was at that moment, when I heard Voldemort was dead and Harry was in a coma that I realized that I loved him. I was confused because I had always liked Harry but I didn't think I had known him long enough to feel so strongly for him. But I realized if anything should happen to him, I wouldn't be able to take it."

"Does Harry know?" Hermione asked. She wiped away some of Ginny's tears from her cheeks and embraced her in a sisterly hug as Ginny continued to cry silently. She thought about telling her how Harry had answered the same question but thought that that would be a job for Harry when he and Ginny were alone.

"No. I'm afraid that he won't feel the same way if I tell him. I'm afraid that after you all graduate, he will find a prettier witch who is already out of Hogwarts and has loads of money. I'm afraid that he won't wait for me."

Hermione stroked Ginny's enviously long and straight copper hair as she made noises of comfort. Her heart ached at the pain she heard in the other girl's voice and at the thought that Hermione herself didn't have a love like hers.

"Shhhh... You know Harry isn't like that. He could care less how much money you have and you _are_ a pretty witch. I've always thought that you two complimented each other and were perfect for each other," she admitted in a soft comforting whisper, trying to give support in the way she talked and hugged her dearest friend.

Ginny pulled away from the embrace with a drier face.

"You really think that?"

Hermione nodded confidently if not a bit sadly at what Ginny had and she lacked.

"Absolutely."

"Thank you, Hermione," she whispered softly. Ginny pulled Hermione to her closely, trying to show how grateful she was to have a friend like her.

Both girls lay back down and stared at the gold canopy of the bed; both thinking about a myriad of things related and unrelated to the topic that had just been blown wide open. After a while, Hermione couldn't keep the questions in her mind any longer and her general want of knowledge kept her from remaining silent.

"Are there any...ah..._ways_ to know if you are in love with someone?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking.

"I don't know if there is a definite list anywhere but you start to wonder what the other person is thinking and how they are feeling. You analyze everything you say and do, wondering how your actions affect the other person. I haven't had this yet, thank God, but you might start to feel bouts of jealousy when you see him with other people. Seeing him with a girl, even if it's just talking, or the way he interacts with friends that makes you wish you could interact in the same way. Thank Merlin that _I_ am not a jealous person, otherwise I wouldn't be talking to you."

Ginny's answer seemed so complex, that Hermione wished she were taking notes. Anything at all to help her with this "crush" since she really had no idea what she was doing or what it was all about.

"What about me?" she asked.

Ginny snorted and looked at Hermione like she couldn't believe she had just asked that.

"What about you? You're Harry's best friend and if I were a jealous girlfriend, watching him talk to you and hug you and you kissing him on the cheek, I think I might be quite angry at what was going on between the two of you!"

"But we're just friends! You know that!"

"Of course I know that. I'm not the jealous type remember?" Ginny turned onto her back and continued answering the first question.

"And this is something else I have yet to experience but I think once the relationship gets hot and heavy you will start to wonder about the future. What you and that guy will look like married, how your kids will look. I think you will start to wonder what it could be like to be with that one person every single day. Waking up and going to bed next to him, seeing his face everyday. Like I said, I haven't thought about Harry and I like this yet but sometimes...," her voice trailed off with her reluctance to admit...whatever it was she was going to say.

"What is it?" Hermione asked with an encouraging smile. Ginny returned the grin sheepishly.

"Sometimes I will combine our names, you know? Like, I will whisper to myself when I am lying in bed, '_Mrs. Harry Potter' _or _'Ginevra Potter'_ just to see what it would sound like or if I could get used to being known as a Potter and not a Weasley one day. I know that's stupid—"

"No! Not at all! I used to do that sometimes when I was with Ron but..." taking a look at Ginny's face Hermione re-worded the rest of her response. "Uh—well—it's not that I wouldn't _want_ to be a Weasley but well...you know it didn't work out..."

"He wishes it did, you know," Ginny said with a smirk.

"What? Of course he doesn't! We both agreed—"

"Well, yes I know what he _said_ he agreed to do but did you see the way he looked at you and Lavender when she asked if you'd been kissing someone?"

Hermione blushed, remembering the accusation and more importantly, the _truth _of said accusation. "N—no. I wasn't really paying attention," she said miffed.

"He didn't look particularly happy." If Ginny had been standing on the ground she would have been rocking backwards and forwards on her heels and talking to Hermione in a sing-song voice. As it was, she just spoke in that ridiculous tone of voice and smirked like crazy.

"I don't care if he was happy, it wasn't working out!" said an irked Hermione.

"Alright, alright! Don't get your knickers in a twist!"

The Head Girl glared at Miss Weasley who had the grace to cringe and apologize.

"Why are you asking me all of these questions anyway? Are you in _looooooove_?" Ginny asked, holding out the last word for an annoyingly long period of time.

Hermione rolled her eyes but said nothing.

"You _are,_ aren't you?" asked the now shocked and extremely interested red-head.

Hermione threw her hands into the air—an awkward motion since she was lying on her back—and sighed. "I don't know, Ginny! I'm just so confused and it's this guy—I said I didn't like him and Harry and Ron don't like him so how could I...it's just that he's attractive but I've never really given him a chance. He's pompous and conceited and shallow but if he's so shallow why would he do that with me? Earlier today he seemed so different that I might have rushed into something I could regret later and I might have put myself into a difficult position... I don't know what to do! I don't know what to think or how to go about this! I don't know how I feel or if I love him!" Now Hermione's hands were shoved and twisted into her hair as a sign of desperation and defeat.

Ginny wasn't sure what to make of all of this. She was surprised that there really was a guy and she wondered briefly whether Hermione was talking about Cormac McLaggen or Ron. But after what she had said about Harry and Ron not liking the guy, she realized that it couldn't be her brother. Though, Ginny had hoped she and Ron would get back together and she might have become her sister-in-law, but from what Hermione had said earlier and what she had just said now, it seemed as if she really wasn't interested in Ron.

"Didn't you see him at Slughorn's Christmas party last year?" Ginny asked.

"Yes—what does that have to do with anything?" asked a bemused Hermione.

"Well...didn't you spend the entire party avoiding him? Even though he was your date?"

Hermione's brow wrinkled in confusion and looked at Ginny's face as if she were the Giant Squid.

"I didn't go to the party with him and I definitely didn't avoid him. He was only there for a second before being escorted from the party," she answered.

"But...wait—who are you talking about?" asked Ginny, who had sat up in the bed and looked down at Hermione with complete befuddlement.

"Who are _you_ talking about?" responded Hermione.

"Cormac McLaggen."

Hermione couldn't help but burst out laughing. "You thought I was talking about _that_ moron?" Ginny was still confused since she still had no idea who Hermione had really been talking about. She scowled at the Head Girl as she rolled around on the bed, clutching her stomach as if in agony though her laughter contradicted that.

"So fine. It wasn't McLaggen. Who _were_ you talking about?" Ginny now had her fists on her hips in an uncanny, though rather thinner, example of Molly Weasley. Hermione stopped laughing and sat up as well, unsure if she should tell the other girl about Draco or not.

"Well, you see...this is why I'm so confused and I didn't want to talk to the boys about it...and..." but upon seeing Ginny's glare that looked so much like her mother's, Hermione knew that stalling was futile. She would not leave this sleepover without either being hexed or telling Ginny who she was "crushing" on.

"Who. Is. It?" the red-headed girl asked evenly.

"You sound just like your mum," Hermione grumbled but she looked her friend square in the eye and decided to tell her. Maybe Ginny would be supportive and when Harry and Ron found out, Hermione would have at least one friend by her side, not caring that she had feelings for a Malfoy.

Or maybe not.

Might Hermione be friendless for her heart's bad judgment?

She guessed so by the look on Ginny's face currently.

"Draco Malfoy. I—like—Draco—Malfoy." She spoke in slow even tones that could not be misunderstood and watched as Ginny's eyes went from suspicious, to cautious, to shock...and then she laughed.

* * *

**(A/N): Well, there you go, dear readers! Reviews are very much appreciated (hinthint)! I would just like to say that the rest of the sleepover will be posted in the next chapter, and hopefully the rest of Hermione and Draco's enlightening convo. and that I hope to get Chapter 16 (!) posted before the 31st, when school starts for me. It seems as if updating will be less frequent when school starts, sadly enough as it is. So I guess I will see you all in Chapter 16!**

(Author's friend's note): I, if you did not know (which you probably didn't), am Jackie, a.k.a. jc 2021. Jessica and I took a picture of Draco and... well, look at it. It is _very_ funny. At the time we were like OMG, LMAO both of us... we are not the same person. We are not the same person. I am not Jessica's other personality. Jessica doesn't have another personality... well.. I don't think she has another personality. I do though. Her name is Siba Auku. Though saying that, I am now thinking of my third personality named Jacqueline. Of course now saying _that_ I have yet _another_ personality... I won't go into this. I am probably bugging you so much that you are saying that I really, really need to go away. And I know how you feel! This annoys me to death. So I will say good-bye and if you really want to (and if you know who Inuyasha is) then you can read my story "First Date", yet again, by jc 2021. Thank you and good-bye.

**(A/N): Right...thanks Jackie. She just wanted to say something, dear readers, so I let her. Hehe. ANYWAYS... Jackie wanted me to see if this picture of Draco we warped would post with the chapter but it looks like it didn't. Oh well. I will try to get another chapter posted before school starts, as I have said. I do have a haircut scheduled tomorrow and a dentist appointment Thursday, not to mention that Red Cross Volunteers meeting on Monday and getting my bus pas on Wednesday. But I think I will manage... See you all later!**


	16. Friendly Blackmail

**(A/N): Not much to say so I will go ahead to my lovely reviewers:**

**anxious-obsession: Thank you for your concern that Hermione might be out of character but I have said in most of my Author's Notes that I have a reason. My readers have trusted me to explain those outbursts because I said I would. Part of the reason she acts that way is in Chapter 13 and the other part of my reasoning will be in a later chapter. I'm sorry that you are having a hard time imagining my portrayal of Hermione Granger but thank you for addressing this to me and thank you for your review.**

**Feltonsgirl90210: Oh, I guess I didn't make the password thing too clear, huh? Well, the first time they had to enter the common room they had to say the password together. For all the other times they need in, they don't need to say it together. It's sort of like an activation thing, I guess; before they can use the password separately, they had to use it together once. LMAO means laughing my a off. I don't use that acronym and I don't cuss either except for, obviously, in my writing. For the longest time, I didn't know what lmao meant either. Thank you so much for your review and thank you for asking me about that! I am always happy to clear anything up that may be confusing.**

**Nanie-san: We copy and pasted the picture of Draco from the Mugglenet dot com site layout and put it in Adobe Photoshop. Jackie wanted to make him look gothic so I colored his hair black and she outlined his eyes in black like eyeliner. It _was_ pretty funny. I always have interesting friends; weird, but interesting. Thank you for your review! I don't know how many times or in how many different ways I can tell my dear readers that I appreciate them.**

**Chikifriend: I can't believe your sister recommended my story to you! That is SO COOL! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story (obviously, if you are reading this, you got this far...).**

**(A/N): My thanks also go out to my other dear readers who reviewed: **princessgrl, sexydraco, I-read-2-much, Puffy Marshmallow, XXSoXXEmptyXXInsideXX, dark midsky, PrincessPotter,jc 2021, True Distortion, xx-scratchthat, My–Chemical-Romance-Fan, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, mrs. skywalker, jaejae, **and** charley.

**Disclaimer: I am currently in the process of changing my looks until I look like Jo Rowling so that I can fool you all into thinking that Harry Potter is mine. So far I have the braces (to straighten my unperfect teeth) and I got a haircut. All I need to do is loose weight, dye my hair, grow taller, grow _older_, and hmmm...use my trusty time turner so that I can claim the Potter world before she writes it. Yep, that's it. But until then (as always), Harry Potter and Co. are not mine. I would also like to say that the song featured in this chapter is Shania Twain's not mine at all either.

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**Friendly Blackmail:**

Hermione stared as Ginny laughed in her face at her bald confession about her feelings for one, Draco Malfoy. If it wasn't hard enough for her to cope with those feelings, the uncertainty and confusion, the obvious attraction and the same dislike towards her enemy, then Ginny was just making it all worse. Now Hermione wondered how people would react if word got out. Would they all laugh at her like Ginny?

'_Don't worry about it. Even if Ginny's laughing at you, she wouldn't tell anyone. And since when did you care what people thought about you?'_

_I've _always _cared what people thought about me. The things Draco used to say about me and my family, the things Snape says about being a know-it-all...those remarks have always hurt. I preach to Harry and Ron to ignore what people say but when Rita Skeeter wrote those horrid things about me in fourth year and when Ron said I didn't have any friends in first year, I actually cried. I'm just human, you know._

Then a horrible thought came to her mind...

What if _Draco_ found out and laughed at her?

Hermione wasn't sure she would be able to escape the humiliation that kind of truth could bring. She was also starting to get hurt and angry at Ginny. How dare she not take her seriously! Saying that she had a crush on Draco Malfoy was one of the hardest things Hermione had ever had to admit and the only person she had told was laughing at her! Well she didn't have to take it! No, she didn't!

Ginny was still laughing but Hermione didn't care. She stood from the bed and stomped to the bathroom door, shoving it open before Ginny could notice how angry she was at her. Slamming the door behind her as she entered, Hermione paced angrily, trying to let off steam.

"Who does she think she is? ...no right to laugh at me... hardest most complicated confession I've ever... What kind of friend—" she grumbled with fury, but she stopped and stared with wide eyes at the sight of Draco standing in front of the toilet through the reflection of the mirror.

His head was turned to watch her pace and mumble as he put himself away but Hermione could not seem to peel her eyes away from his reflection. She did notice that he was smirking, though. The sound of the flushing toilet broke her trance and she looked at her feet, blushing furiously and extremely embarrassed for walking in on Draco using the bathroom and for staring at him so openly.

"Oh, my God... I am _so_ sorry. I didn't see anything, I swear!" she said in a horrified voice, closing her eyes against her humiliation. She could hear Draco's steps echoing off of the tile. Her heart beat faster with every step he took closer to her, but when she heard the water run in the sink, she knew he wasn't standing by her. Knowing it was safe to look now that he had finished his business, she reopened her eyes and slowly walked to Draco's side, still watching his platinum blond head through the mirror.

_At least he's hygienic._

Thinking that he washed his hands after relieving himself only made Hermione more embarrassed and her face color a darker shade of crimson. Draco dried his hands and turned to face Hermione; his smirk never faltering. Now he crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her to say something, but no sound escaped her lips. She avoided his eyes as he watched her, unsure of what to say and wishing she could just die on the spot.

Finally, Hermione turned around to leave but Draco reached a hand out and grabbed her arm.

Gently.

He'd grabbed her arm gently. Hermione turned to face Draco with uncertainty and shock in her eyes. She was slightly uncomfortable at how close he was to her, especially in her state of half-undress in her pajamas which consisted of a small tank top and flannel pants. Looking up into his face, she saw his smirk transfigure into a smile of amusement. She could feel the heat radiating off of his body again and she was all too aware of his hand clasped loosely on her arm. Looking up into his eyes, she noticed that his eyebrow was quirked and that his amusement had reached the icy grey pools he used for sight.

His amusement was genuine.

His smile was genuine.

_Beautiful..._ her mind thought. Draco looked so much more attractive when he smiled. If his smirk was able to make her stomach flutter, his smile sent a shiver down her spine. So lost in his face was she, that she didn't notice Draco release his grip on her arm, instead choosing to stroke the underside of her upper arm. Hermione was shivering from un-frizzy head to dainty toe and she knew that it wasn't from the cold.

Because it wasn't cold in that bathroom.

In fact, she was starting to feel extremely hot.

_Oh, God, Draco! What do you do to me?_

Draco's other hand came to rest on Hermione's cheek, his thumb stroked the bottom of her lip until her lips had parted.

"Who were you talking about?" he asked. It took a few moments before Hermione had registered that he had said something and another few moments for her to register what it was. The question in her eyes was obvious so Draco laughed and spoke again.

"You came in here mumbling. Who were you mumbling about?" Draco's smile was infectious and he was so _gorgeous_.

Her face flushed but she didn't look away.

"Oh."

She stopped talking and Draco waited for her to finish answering the rest of his question. Hermione just smiled up at him and when she finally noticed the expectant look in his mysterious silver eyes, she blushed again, feeling completely incompetent and stupid. Ever since that kiss earlier, she had not been able to keep her mind focused when she thought about or was around him.

"OH! Yes—well—about that—you see—um, yes, right then—I can explain..." she said feebly, but Hermione couldn't explain. Her brain was fuzzy and she couldn't think straight at all. His body was too close to hers for her brain to function properly and the only thing she was aware of were his beautiful eyes peering into her soul and the feel of his fingers still lightly stroking her upper arm and lips. She could feel his touch as if he was touching her bare skin with force instead of with light caresses.

Draco was chuckling at her obvious embarrassment now, never once letting his fingers leave her cheek or her arm. "And how exactly would you explain barging in on me while I was using the bathroom?"

Hermione's blush spread from her cheeks to her face and neck. Didn't she ever stop blushing in Draco's presence? But now her mind seemed clearer on what she would say.

"Ginny's staying the night and she was laughing at something I said." She was still mumbling but at least her sentence was coherent. Draco still looked amused and was still smiling. Hermione didn't care if the entire world ended and the castle fell down around them but all she wanted was for Draco to never stop smiling or touching her.

"Oh, yes? And what did you say that Weasley laughed at?" Hermione glared at him for calling Ginny by her last name but didn't mean it. How could she when he was still grinning at her like an idiot? She realized then that he could ask anything of her and as long as he was smiling when he asked, she would do it.

_Anything, Draco. Just say it._

"That's none of your business," she mumbled, still mesmerized by his eyes.

"Isn't it?" he asked. His hand shifted on her arm so that he was now holding her wrist. He removed his hand from her cheek to start stroking the sensitive part of her skin under her wrist; small circling motions that sent shivers down Hermione's spine and caused her knees to weaken.

"No," she said in a faint whisper. He was so close to her she could smell the musky sent of man as he rubbed small circles under her wrist, his darkening eyes watching her, _and_ _that smile._ She didn't understand how she could still be standing on her shaking legs as all of the sensations she was feeling seemed to be doubling, tripling, by the second. She had this _need_ but she didn't know what it was for or how to relieve it. The only thing she knew was that Draco was the cause of that need. She needed more of Draco. But how? She was finding it harder and harder to breathe evenly, until she couldn't take it anymore.

Standing on her toes, Hermione reached up and planted her lips on his, shocking him with her boldness, but he reacted immediately. His hands left her wrist instead to wrap around her waist, pulling her as close to him as he could. Hermione reached up and drove her fingers through his hair, stroking his soft tresses and the nape of his neck. Draco was backing her up until she felt the back of her knees and lower back hit the counter. This was what she needed. She still felt her need but she felt a sense of... pacification and satisfaction now that they were kissing again. But to her surprise, her need didn't go away so that the kiss could end... No, the feeling multiplied the longer they caressed each others' lips until her body was trembling uncontrollably with it.

She needed more of what Draco was doing to her. She wanted him to kiss her and touch her _everywhere _while she touched him everywhere. The realization scared her. Never before had Hermione felt so dependant on someone in this way. She finally understood what most girls meant when they _wanted_ someone. She wanted Draco Malfoy and she wanted him to never stop kissing her or touching her. She wanted his mouth all over her; she wanted him _inside _of her. It scared her to think that this feeling had evolved in such a few short hours. Since that first kiss the dam inside of her had been broken from her needs and she wanted to be satisfied she supposed in what was the only way _to_ satisfy this kind of need.

_Merlin_, she wanted him.

And it seemed that he wanted her too from the ferocity of the kiss. Not to mention the rock solid part of him Hermione could feel being pushed into her stomach. When she realized it for what it was, she gasped and with the opening of her mouth came Draco's hot tongue, stroking every part of her mouth and claiming it as his territory. Instinctively, Hermione's tongue stroked his, coaxing it further into her mouth. Both teenagers were now trembling, both of them had the same need, and they both also knew that as much as they wanted each other, they couldn't share their need. Not just because of who they were but because time wasn't on their side.

The pounding from Hermione's bathroom door proved that.

Draco and Hermione jumped apart from each other and immediately began smoothing their clothes and hair as if they had been caught doing something they should not have been. Hermione was blushing profusely again and as she took in Draco's appearance, her breath caught in her throat. Now she knew how Lavender and Parvati had been able to tell she had been kissing someone. Currently, Draco's lips were swollen and pink from their kisses, his face was flushed, and his hair was in disarray... he was even panting slightly. His eyes were a darker grey than normal, just like the last time they had kissed and his pupils were dilated. She was shocked by the realization that kissing would be so easy to detect afterwards and wondered for a second if Ginny would notice the signs on her.

She turned around to look into the mirror behind her and her breath stopped short again. Her smooth wavy hair looked disheveled and slightly frizzy, her eyes were dark with desire, her face was also flushed and she looked...different. She wasn't sure how but there was something more... mature or—dare she think it?—sensual about her now. Did Draco see her this way, as well? She didn't notice him standing directly beside her, staring down at her through his misty hooded eyes.

"Hermione! I'm sorry I laughed at you, okay? Really, I'm sorry! Don't be mad please!" shouted Ginny from the Head Girl's room. Hermione could tell from the sound of her voice that she was still having trouble controlling a smile or her laughter. Turning back to Draco, she helped him smooth his hair and his robes that he still wore before heading to the door to open it. "I mean, if it _had_ been Cormac McLaggen... but it wasn't... Are you serious? Dr—"

Hermione ran to the door and pushed it open, cutting off the rest of Ginny's sentence. She was furiously shaking her head and pointing behind her while trying to keep Draco from seeing her motions. Ginny stood slightly shocked in the doorway, her fist still raised in the air from pounding on the door.

"It's about time. What were you doing in there?" Ginny leaned past Hermione and looked in, noticing Draco who was still standing at the counter. "O-oh!" she said before contorting her face into a smirk and crossing her arms.

"I think I've wasted enough of my time with you, Granger," Draco said with a sneer as he turned back to go to his room. Both Ginny and Draco hadn't noticed the look of hurt that crossed Hermione's face briefly as he dismissed himself. Was that all she was to him, a waste of time? Did he not feel all the same things she had during that kiss? Could he really be that heartless?

Hermione didn't want to think he was heartless. He loved his mum. She'd seen him cry for his mum. He couldn't possibly be so callous, could he? Maybe it was all a front for Ginny? She wasn't sure. If anything, she was just as confused if not more so than when she was talking to Ginny ten minutes earlier.

As Draco's door clicked shut, Hermione sighed and turned to Ginny's smug form. Without a word, she passed her to go back into the room and walked towards the window, trying to calm her still pattering heart. She really couldn't see anything through the darkness of night and it was still pouring rain and lightening. Hermione shivered but not from cold since the window was charmed to keep the weather out of the room. She could see the rain pounding on the barrier of the charm, giving the impression that water was just being poured over the window. Even the sound was faint, again, because of the charm. Ginny came to stand next to Hermione who could sense the smirk still residing on the red-head's face.

She sighed and turned reluctantly towards Ginny.

"Is there something you would like to say? Would you like to laugh some more or have you had enough of that activity for awhile?" she asked.

For a second, Ginny seemed shocked by Hermione's short outburst but she shrugged and replaced her smirk again.

"Look, I really am sorry about laughing. I thought it was some kind of joke or something!"

"Oh, thanks, Ginny," Hermione said, sending a withering glare to the girl beside her.

Ginny shrugged again and stared at the other girl shrewdly, "You were kissing him again, weren't you?"

"Who said I was kissing him at all?" she asked, but Hermione's blush revealed the truth even as she began to deny.

"So you _were _kissing him!" the red-head said with what might have been admiration and surprise. "What's it like?" she asked. "Is he any good?"

"Why should I tell you? Wouldn't you just laugh at me?" Hermione ground out in anger. She saw with detached interest that Ginny flinched at her cold words and looked remorseful instead of smug.

"I've already apologized so I wouldn't blame you if you didn't forgive me. But you do realize that I now have this...confession over your head..." Ginny said slowly.

Hermione spun around in shocked disbelief. She wouldn't dare! But that's...

"You're going to _blackmail_ me?" Her mouth hung open and her hands unconsciously clenched into fists at her sides.

"Well..." Ginny started with an air of complete innocence. "I hadn't thought of it until you said it..."

"You wouldn't!"

Ginny's eyes narrowed in evil mischief as she met Hermione's warm brown eyes.

"I might. In fact...why not? Yes, before I decide not to tell anyone, I want you to do one thing. Let's just call it...Truth or Dare, without the truth part of the game."

Hermione was horrified by these turn of events. This is what she got for admitting a secret that she should have just kept to herself.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked sadly as she dropped onto her crimson covered bed.

"Oh, come on, Hermione! It's all in good fun! This is what girl friends do!"

"I highly doubt that, Ginny. What kind of person blackmails their so-called friend?"

Ginny sat down beside the Head Girl and took her time replying. "Look, if Parvati or Lavender knew, the whole school would know too in less than an hour...even though dinner has ended. I want you to do one thing for me and no one will ever find out that you like Draco Malfoy...or that you've kissed him," she added as an afterthought.

"And what's that?" Hermione asked in defeat.

"Sing to him."

Hermione had to do a double-take at those words. "Excuse me?"

"I want you to sing a song to Draco Malfoy. It doesn't matter which song, in fact, you can choose." Hermione was slightly perplexed that she wasn't smirking smugly anymore. Ginny was in actuality, smiling with humor and, a much as Hermione loathed to acknowledge and admit it, good fun.

"Why in the name of Merlin would you want me to do that?"

Ginny shrugged and stood from the bed, looking down on Hermione sternly. "Because I have personally never heard you sing and because you are too uptight. You need to have more fun every once in a while."

Hermione bristled at being called uptight again and gaped for awhile, not quite certain what to say or how to voice what she was feeling. While Draco's smile had warmed Hermione's heart (if not heating her blood and weakening her knees first, of course), she found Ginny's only irritating. Her right hand itched to grab her wand and hex Ginny off the face of the Earth, keeping Hermione from humiliation and making sure her secret stayed a secret forever.

"I do have fun! I just happen to have fun in a different way than you!"

"Yes, while staying cooped up in the library for twelve hours a day sounds like loads of fun, I can't seem to find any appeal in it," the youngest Weasley said with a sardonic twist of the mouth.

"Just because I like to spend my time in peace and quiet, reading books for hours and learning doesn't mean I don't have fun. Besides, just two weeks ago, I rode a broom! Ask Harry and Ron! They will tell you! And not to mention when I colored all over Malfoy's face! That was _loads_ of fun, I tell you!"

Ginny held up her hands with palms facing Hermione's raging face in a sign of surrender. "Oh, I believe you. But couldn't you just do this for me? I bet it won't be as humiliating as we think it will be."

To mimic what she had said earlier, Hermione said sarcastically, "Oh, thanks, Ginny."

Ginny grabbed Hermione by the crook of her arm and pulled her up from the bed. "Come on. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner we can go to bed."

No one could say that Hermione hadn't tried to stop Ginny from pulling her towards the doorway that led onto the balcony, and no one could say that she hadn't tried to pull her hand away when Ginny grabbed it and placed it against the cool wood of the door. With every step that she was forced to take, Hermione's mind reeled with what Ginny was making her do.

She had told Draco that singing was equivalent with writing in her diary to help extinguish her strange fiery temper, fits of deep depression, and cowardice, but she had also told him that she never sang. That hadn't been a complete truth. Hermione liked to sing but never in front of anyone; she always locked her door back at home when listening to CDs so that her parents wouldn't catch her doing a crazy dance or a horrible Bon Jovi impersonation. Hermione tried to dig her heels into the stone floor as she was pulled along but the Quidditch player was stronger and dragged her with ease. While holding the Head Girl's elbow in a tight grip with one hand, Ginny knocked on Malfoy's front door with the other.

The door swung forward revealing Draco wearing silky black pants and bare-chested once again. Hermione's blush was noted by the blond young man but Ginny's attention was solely focused on Malfoy. Giving him her biggest smile, she said:

"Um...hello there. Uh, Hermione wanted to sing a song for you, didn't you, Hermione?" she asked as she turned to the other girl. Draco's arms crossed over his chest but Hermione didn't look at either of them. "_Didn't you, Hermione?" _Ginny repeated as she pushed Hermione in front of Draco in his doorway.

"No," she said as she glared at Ginny again. The glare she received in return caused her to turn to Draco. He did nothing to cover himself, knowing full well what had happened the last time he had been shirtless in her presence, nor did he hide the curious expression from his face. Hermione sighed and continued, "But I'm going to."

She noticed how Draco's eyebrow quirked with what she supposed was slight surprise and even more curiosity. Her brain was in overdrive searching out a suitable song. She promised herself that this would be the only time she would ever sing in anyone else's presence so she decided to make it count. Picking a song that had literal meaning to how she was currently feeling would help ease the turmoil in her mind but it had the added risk that Draco might realize how she felt about him.

But then again, he probably wouldn't take her seriously anyway. Ginny certainly hadn't.

One title popped into her head and after a second, she remembered the tune and the words. It was uncanny how well the words to the song fit her emotions that for a second she was shocked before she remembered that her audience might soon grow impatient.

Once again proven by the hard poke Hermione received from Ginny. Sending another glare at the red-head, Hermione started singing in a quiet, dubious voice.

"_Deep in Denial-ville,_

_Trying to fight the way I feel,_

_I go jell-O when you smile._

_I start blushing, my head rushing."_

Even as she sang it, Hermione began to blush. She avoided the other two teenager's eyes as she studied the cracks and bumps in the stone floor at her feet and sang in a slightly louder, slightly more confident voice.

_"If you stand too close to me_

_I might melt down from the heat._

_If ya look my way one more time_

_I'm gonna go out of my mind!"_

She looked up into Draco's eyes, trying to gauge his reaction but finding nothing but surprise and his eyes showed something else. Was her voice repulsive to him? Did she really sing that badly? But she was getting into the groove of things and as she started the chorus of the song, she held Draco's gaze, finding her confidence by pretending that Draco could possibly return the feelings that she sang about.

_"Whatever you do..._

_Don't even think about it!_

_Don't go and get me started!_

_Don't you dare drive me crazy!_

_Don't do that to me, baby!"_

Starting the next verse, Hermione didn't notice Ginny's open-mouthed shock. Her attention was only on the blond she sang to, the holder of her affection.

_"You stop me in my tracks,_

_My heart pumping to the max._

_I'm such a sucker for your eyes,_

_They permanently paralyze!"_

God, how true was_ that_?

_"Whatever you do..._

_Don't even think about it!_

_Don't go and get me started!_

_Don't you dare drive me crazy!_

_Don't do that to me baby!"_

"Whatever you do," Hermione said after an instrumental pause that no one could hear as she poked Draco's bare chest, the contact with his flesh sending a shiver down her spine, "don't do that to me."

_"You got my heart under attack._

_You give me shivers down my back._

_D'ya have to walk the way you do?_

_I get weak just watching you!_

_Whatever you do..._

_Don't even think about it!_

_Don't go and get me started!_

_Don't you dare drive me crazy!_

_Don't do that to me, baby!_

_Don't even think about it!_

_Don't go and get me started!_

_Don't you dare drive me crazy!_

_Don't do that to me, baby!_

_Don't do that—don't do that!"_

Hermione knew that she definitely hadn't sung the song as the American, country music diva had recorded it but she thought she did pretty well despite her British accent and bookworm ways. Then, suddenly, all of the words she had just sung, and the man she was looking at caught up with her brain and her eyes widened. _What did she just do?_

'_Let's see,' _the logical voice in her brain said, _'you _only_ sang in front of Ginny Weasley, to Draco Malfoy, about the physical aspects of attraction to the latter person.'_

_Oh, thanks, _she thought back, _for stating the obvious._

Before Ginny or Draco knew what was happening, Hermione had run back to her room and jumped in bed, hiding her face and embarrassment underneath the crimson duvet. Out on the balcony, Draco stood stunned, now changing the direction of his gaze to Ginny. Ginny meanwhile was still in a state of shock. She really didn't think Hermione would be able to sing at all. She thought that the library queen would have only succeeded in embarrassing herself. That had been half the fun of blackmailing her: watching her sing terribly and possibly get laughed at by Malfoy. She knew it was horrible to think that but the opportunity was there so she took it.

Flashing a huge mock smile to Draco and wiggling her fingers in a 'toodles' sort of wave, Ginny hurried after Hermione before the door closed and she was stuck outside for the night. She found the Head Girl in bed and pulled the covers back to reveal a blushing Hermione.

"That was _so _humiliating!" she wailed in despair, throwing her arm on her forehead like a damsel in distress. Ginny looked at her with disbelief before climbing into the bed as well.

"What are you talking about? I've never even heard that song before but I thought it was fabulous! _You_ were fabulous! I didn't know you could sing, Hermione!" she raved with reviews.

At the sound of Ginny's praise, Hermione glowed with pride as she blushed still more.

"You really think so? I thought it was okay but embarrassing nonetheless. What if he took my song literally, as I meant it?" she asked in a worried whisper. Ginny patted Hermione on the arm before lying down and getting comfortable in the large bed.

"Don't worry about it. Malfoy's an idiot—hey, just because you like him doesn't mean I have to—," she added at Hermione's glare, "but _if _he does figure it out..." her voice faded away as she shrugged. "I don't know. He must like you in some way if you guys are on snogging terms."

Hermione wouldn't allow herself to hope that Draco did feel even the smallest attraction or affection for her. It was just so unlikely. Hermione's silence alerted Ginny to these feelings.

"Hermione." Ginny turned on her side and propped her body up on one elbow. "If Malfoy never felt anything for you before, he must now. You've changed over the summer and while the change is physical—which visual stimulus never hurt anyone—he could get to know and like you. Do you like him just because of his looks?"

Hermione didn't have to think long for her answer. She shook her head. "No. We've talked a bit and we were civil. I'd forgotten that he studies and makes good grades. He's second to me in most of the classes we both have. I...look forward to talking to him more, actually... I think we would be able to talk about classes and books we've read if he wanted to," she said. Now she felt self-conscious about her confession but she lay back to hear how Ginny was going to handle this situation. Depending on what the youngest Weasley said, Hermione would be able to tell if she was disgusted or would be supportive with Hermione's feelings for Draco.

"I'm not going to pretend that I like him, if that's what you're expecting," Ginny said.

Hermione nodded. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Good, because I _don't_ like him and I will continue to not like him unless I can see that he changes for you."

Hermione nodded again, but her brain was already in overdrive, looking for examples.

"He doesn't call me Mudblood anymore..." she said, remembering how he choked on the word while trying to say it. He hadn't called her that name in two weeks and hadn't even tried to keep up appearances. He still taunted her and her friends but she couldn't even take it seriously anymore. His words had stopped hurting when he stopped calling her that name.

Ginny seemed only slightly curious. "Hmmm, maybe but if he _does_ like you, he should at least tolerate your friends."

"Oh, because they would tolerate him!" she snapped sardonically.

"I would," said Ginny simply. She pulled out her wand and extinguished the lamps, placing her wand underneath her pillow for the night.

Hermione lay in the dark, just speechless. Ginny was going to try! If Draco tried, she would too! Turning onto her side and facing Ginny's back, Hermione tapped the red-head's shoulder.

"Mm, hmm?" she barely acknowledged.

"Thank you for trying, Ginny. I really appreciate it," Hermione said in an uncomfortable tone that also relayed her apologies for snapping.

"It's alright, Hermione. I'll be your friend through this, even if my brother and my boyfriend act like complete prats when they find out."

"_If_ they find out," Hermione corrected.

"Right. If."

"I've just been so confused..." Hermione said, her voice dragging off in the end when she couldn't think of what else to say.

"I know," Ginny said softly. She faced Hermione and patted her arm comfortingly. "I know."

"You're pure evil you know, for making me do that."

"What are you talking about?" Ginny said, feigning innocence. "I didn't make you sing in front of him. I wasn't going to tell Malfoy anything, you just assumed that with a few words and pokes, that I was blackmailing you." She turned her back to Hermione again while the Head Girl silently cursed her friend.

"How very Slytherin of you," she muttered darkly.

* * *

Even after Weasley had entered Granger's room, Draco had stood in his doorway shell-shocked at what he had just witnessed. He never thought he would hear Hermione sing and from what she had told him earlier that afternoon, he had assumed that she would sound horrible. He had been pleasantly surprised.

Draco had seen the look on her face when she started singing. Nervous, scared maybe...she hadn't wanted to do it and it looked like the Weasley girl had talked her into it. He couldn't help but think that the description of songbird that he had fit to Granger that night on the Hogwarts Express really fit. He'd never heard the song she sang before, and he supposed it was a Muggle song as well, but he couldn't help but like it just because _she_ sang it. She _had_ sounded like a songbird.

He sighed and turned to go back into his room. Pushing the silver bed curtains aside, he climbed into the bed and lay on his back, staring at the silver satin material above him. Hermione's voice rang in his ears and it was a pure sound. He wouldn't mind hearing her sing again but judging by the way she had run back to her room, he didn't think that was likely to happen. Draco didn't mind though. He knew he was one of the lucky few to hear Hermione Granger sing and he'd treasure that moment for as long as he lived.

_'A total disgrace to the Malfoy name!' _Draco was too content to care what his conscience had to say. He turned onto his side and closed his eyes. _'She probably didn't even mean the words.' _

Now _that_ thought disturbed him. Had one of the reasons he liked the song been because he hoped she meant what she sang? He couldn't recall every word but he got the gist of it. Basically, the song spoke about an attraction she supposedly had to him and how that affected her body.

Draco smirked into the darkness. Maybe he _was_ too hot to handle...

Or maybe she was playing some joke on him...

He didn't want to believe that. Hermione had told him that she never sang that morning so if she would do so for him now...

_'It could have been the first song that popped into her head.' _

Maybe, but the fact that she had sang in front of him at all made Draco's heart beat faster.

As he tossed and turned in his bed, trying to fall asleep, his thoughts were far from his comatose mother and possibly-alive father. His mind was filled with Hermione. His heart was filled with Hermione.

And as he finally drifted off to sleep, his last conscious thought was wishing that his _arms _were filled with Hermione.

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**(A/N): It's six-forty in the morning so by posting this now, I am still making my deadline of updating 'before I go to school'. Well, this is it, dear readers. No, not the end of the story but the learning center of education I go to (a.k.a. school) is trying to ruin my summer vacation. Maybe I can get another chapter posted by next week but I can't make any promises. I guess there's not much else to say, so I will see you all in Chapter 17!**


	17. Conversations

**(A/N): What I told my mom after my first day of ninth grade:**

"**Just kill me now..."**

**Actually, the first day wasn't too bad. We usually go by block schedule here but for the first day we had to go to all of our classes for half the usual time. The only problem was, once I got home, I didn't want to go back... But the next three weeks have been like torture. I have two classes that I can't stand, one teacher that I greatly dislike, but besides that, I really like my Spanish and art classes.**

**princessgrl: Wow! Thanks for your review! I totally hope that I can fall hopelessly and romantically in love one day too, and anyone who isn't a Snape-hater is my new best friend. Speaking of best friends, mine is back and she will be starting school on Monday! She's better but she's had surgery so she's still sore and stuff, but she's back! I slept over at her house the other night to help her get caught up with her school work. Well, thanks again and thank your friend for me!**

**the singer: No, I don't think I will make Draco a singer... haha. That's just too funny. Hermione will be the only one in this story (actually I was thinking of making Harry sing a song to Ginny but I don't think I'll do that). I would love to read your story when you publish it. Thank you for your review!**

**My-Chemical-Romance-Fan: I was a little hesitant about making Ginny do the blackmailing gig. As one of my reviewers said, it was sort of random. I really didn't want her to look horrible but I thought it was kind of funny and the song especially fit with the story. And your right, you can't help but love Ginny! Thanks for your review!**

**Rikku Ree: ****This may be a long time since I last updated but I sort of needed a break to hammer down my writer's block. Oh, wow... My story is the first Harry Potter fan fiction you've read? That's so flattering, thank you! I personally can't remember my first Potter fan fic but I do remember that I read it on Mugglenet, then the author said they were moving their story here and that's how I found Fanfiction dot net. Anyways, thank you for your review!**

**(A/N): I'd like to thank:** jynnx, Nick-Nack-Black, I-read-2-much, prtsrxmyNiceSox, jc 2021, blueskyshymoon08, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, mrs. skywalker, JaeJae, Tryix, Hazleocean, **and** Feltonsgirl90210 **for their reviews. And I'd just like to say that I wish I was a child of the '80s because '80s music rocks! GO BON JOVI! GO BLONDIE!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Sorry to disappoint. Unless you're not disappointed, because then I'm insulted!

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**Conversations:**

It rained non-stop all week. While the weather did improve over the course of two days, the sky was still a bleak grey with no hint of sun. It almost looked as if night had descended early every day. For Harry, Ron, and Hermione, getting to Herbology meant fighting the bitter wind and torrential rain and despite their magic, they always ended up getting cold and soaked. However, Quidditch practice was not to be deterred.

"He's getting as bad as Oliver Wood! And I've never trained under Oliver! That's saying something, Hermione!" Ron had complained to Hermione one wet evening, three days after Ginny slept in the Head Girl's dorm. Harry and Ron were still blissfully ignorant of Hermione's feelings for Draco and the kisses that they had shared.

All week, embarrassment caused Hermione to avoid Draco. In class she avoided his eyes and she was always first out of the classes they shared and halfway down the corridor before he could catch up with her. In the halls she walked right past him or when she saw him, would engage herself in heated conversation with the nearest unsuspecting person. At meals, she forced herself to not let a single glance stray towards the Slytherin table, or any farther than the Ravenclaw table at that.

Though, while she was avoiding the Head Boy, Draco seemed to search Hermione out. He waited for her to go to breakfast and dinner but what he didn't know was that she used the charmed door to go to the Gryffindor common room and depart from there instead. The only time he ever got to talk to her was when they worked together in Potions, which Snape informed the class that the Headmaster had requested; any partnered assignments were to be inter-house pairings. Naturally, the Head Boy and Girl were put together as "an example" for the rest of the class. Having to sit beside the object of her affection nearly every other day for an hour and a half was not Hermione's idea of fun. She never stopped blushing the entire time allotted to Potions and felt awkward when she spoke to Draco, mainly just asking to pass ingredients or materials.

That week also brought the private Animagus lessons Hermione had started with Professor Dumbledore at the beginning of sixth year. Wednesday morning, Hermione received a missive from the Headmaster and that night after dinner, Hermione was making her way to Dumbledore's office for the restart of her lessons. On the second floor, she heard Draco's voice in the corridor and immediately looked around for him or a place to hide. One lone suit of armor stood against the wall and Hermione dashed behind it just as Draco turned the corner, talking with Blaise Zabini. She situated her body so that if they looked up at the knight, they would not see her between her protector and the wall.

"What did Dumbledore want? Planning other ways to make Slytherin and Gryffindors fucking lovers or something?" Hermione heard Zabini say. For some odd reason, his words stirred something in her stomach; she fidgeted a bit in her hiding place.

_This is silly. Draco and I aren't lovers. We're barely even friends._

_'That doesn't stop you two snogging every chance you get.'_

_Shut up..._

So, Draco had been to see Dumbledore, eh? What had they been up to?

Draco fleetingly looked at Zabini out of the corner of his eyes. From his distance at the end of the corridor, Hermione might have said he looked wary of his companion but she really couldn't tell.

"No," he said, "he set up a date and time for me to visit my mum." Draco's voice held no real emotion. It sounded a bit strained to Hermione's ears; almost as if he were trying to hide what he was feeling from his voice. All the same, Zabini noticed nothing.

"Without asking you? How dare that fool! What if you had plans or something?" the black boy said with true outrage.

"Yes, how dare he," Draco muttered distractedly and without sarcasm. Hermione could tell that he seemed to have dropped out of the conversation and had his mind on other things. He continued to finish his explanation, "He asked if I would like an escort and that I could have up until the date of the meeting to choose someone if I wanted."

"Who will you take? Snape? He is our head of house."

Draco shook his head, still a bit absentmindedly.

"What about you're fiancé? I'll bet she'd like to see her mum-in-law in her state."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Fiancé? When the hell did that happen? Why didn't she know about it? She could feel her eyes start to well with tears and knew that she shouldn't have been crying. She had no reason to; Draco wasn't hers. He was bound to marry a Pureblood and she was stupid to think that he might ever have feelings for _her._ Who was she kidding?

"Absolutely not," Draco whispered in a menacing voice. He turned to face Zabini, his glare so cold, he could have doused fire with one look. "And I refuse for you to tell Parkinson about this! I will _not_ have her doting on me until she must and if I had my way, she would leave me the hell alone forever. Blaise, if you tell her—" Draco was cut off by Zabini's hasty assurances.

"Fine! She'll never know!"

Hermione silently slapped her forehead. How could she be so stupid? Of course he was going to marry Pansy Parkinson! But she couldn't help but feel so much more relieved when she heard that he didn't want to marry her. Those words... as soon as she got the chance, she would write down exactly what he had just said in her diary. She would treasure this memory forever...

_I guess I can't call it the 'Malfoy in Humiliating Circumstances Gallery of Memories' anymore,_ she thought to herself. _Maybe I should call it the 'Draco, The-Incredibly-Sexy-Beast-That-He-Is, Malfoy Gallery of Fond Memories._

"Never. Parkinson will never know," Draco said one more time. The two young men continued walking down the length of the corridor as Hermione tried to digest this new information.

After a few silent moments, Zabini spoke up again. The two boys were now just on the other side of the door that the suit of armor Hermione was hiding behind stood by.

"With Dumbledore so intent on "inter-House unity", I would have thought he would have saddled the Mudblood to you for your visit to your mum," he said nonchalantly. Draco's entire body froze. He stopped and turned to face the other boy slowly. Seeing him halt their progress, Blaise also stopped and watched Draco's paling face curiously.

"What did you say?" Draco whispered harshly.

"I thought Dumbledore would have made Granger go with you to see your mum. I'm sure you'd prefer her over Pansy, eh? She's actually not a bad piece of ass... I wouldn't mind getting a hold of—"

Draco was enraged by the words, Hermione could tell. He shoved Zabini against a wall, his forearm pinning Blaise's shoulders to the stone wall.

"Don't—_ever_—say—that—_again_. You hear?" he whispered in his coldest voice. The two boys were so close that Hermione could see Draco's furious face. The sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine but not in pleasure as it had before. He was actually starting to scare her.

"Alright, alright! You'd rather take Parkinson over Granger, I get it!" Blaise said with a hint of desperation. Draco must have been scaring him as well. Hermione's face dropped as she heard the black boy's words. Of course. Draco had to have been upset that Zabini would suggest that he liked a _Mudblood_ over Parkinson. This was the third time in ten minutes that she felt foolish and stupid because of her childish delusions of Draco. He just didn't like her that way! She had to get that through her head!

And it was the third time in ten minutes that she was reassured by Draco's words.

"No, you idiot! Don't you _ever_ call her a Mudblood again! Or I will hex you until you are eating from your ass." He still spoke in the same cold whisper that made Hermione feel ashamed and disgusted with herself even though he was talking to Blaise Zabini. He had such a way with his voice...

Blaise became suspicious and angry at his words.

"Why? Do you _like_ Granger or something?" Hermione's body froze and she tuned her ears into the conversation so as not to miss a single word. "Are you turning into some sort of _blood traitor_ or a _Muggle-lover_?" Zabini's words were tainted with hate, even at the Malfoy heir.

"No," Draco said simply. He released the other boy and crossed his arms over his chest, both of them glaring at each other as if they were having a staring contest.

"_No?_ Is that all you have to say?"

"No." Draco leaned closer to Blaise until their noses almost touched. He spoke in a deadly whisper that automatically made the black boy wary. He would have taken a step back if he hadn't already been up against a wall.

"Have you ever seen a Muggle-born's blood?" Blaise seemed bewildered by this question and shook his head. "No? I'm sure your father has implanted the same information into your head that mine has implanted into me. That Muggle-borns' blood is polluted, dirty, darker than our own pure blood? That they are foul creatures not worthy of our attention or money? Have you been taught this?"

Blaise nodded, too afraid to say anything or to interrupt Draco's questioning. Hermione was listening the entire time, extremely curious as to where this conversation was going to go.

"But you've never seen a Muggle-born's blood. I have, Blaise. I've seen Granger's blood."

Hermione's heart plummeted and beat ferociously in her chest. He was _so_ not going to tell Zabini about her diary was he? She hadn't told anyone about what he had told her that Saturday afternoon. She hadn't said a single word, so was he trying to tell the other Slytherin her secret and if so why? Hermione couldn't stop the hurt and confusion from clouding her brain as tears sprung to her eyes. Her body lowered to the floor so that she was now sitting against the base of the suit of armor's stand. Her head fell to her hands as her elbows were perched on her drawn knees. Draco was still speaking and she was still listening intently, albeit, reluctantly.

"Her blood looks exactly like mine. It was as bright, as red, as _clean_ as my blood or yours. And didn't you notice that if a Muggle-born witch or wizard were to stand perfectly still in the middle of a group of Pureblooded witches and wizards—none of them moving, not seeing their normal behavior—you would not be able to tell the impure one out. Physically, Muggle-borns could look exactly as we do. The only difference is that their parents are Muggles and _we_ were raised with this prejudice. _We _are the only ones with this hate towards someone else because of their blood. You see Granger...her best friends are a half-blood and a pureblood. She didn't care who their parents were and Potter and Weasley didn't either. Neither do I anymore."

Hermione hoped that the long sigh of relief she released wasn't loud enough to be heard. Fat tears were still rolling down her cheeks despite the fact that she wished for them to stop. Had she heard correctly? Gods, she hoped so. Draco Malfoy had just defended Muggle-borns against another Slytherin and even admitted that he didn't care what kind of blood ran through a person's body anymore. Hermione felt like crying, laughing, sighing...even singing—she wished she could kiss him at that moment for that deed; he'd just made her so happy.

"So you _are_ a blood-traitor!" Zabini said hotly, his fists clenched at his sides in rising anger.

"No!" he said coldly. Zabini froze. "My father lied to me when he told me that Mudbloods were physically different, and you know how I feel about being lied to. Maybe my grandfather lied to him too—maybe Purebloods have been lying to their offspring for centuries but I don't want any part this. You will not call Granger a Mudblood and you will not call anyone else a Mudblood in my presence or you _will_ regret it, Zabini. Understand?"

Blaise glared at the blond student with such hatred that anyone less than a Malfoy might have been frightened. He tried to control his voice from shaking with rage but only succeeded in producing a short hiss. "_Yes._"

"Good. This conversation is over."

The two boys continued down the corridor in tense silence. Hermione watched as they turned the corner and stood up from the ground, wiping the tears from her face. She thought about following them but taking a look at her watch, she realized that she was nearly ten minutes late for her meeting with Dumbledore.

Hermione flew to the stone gargoyle that guarded Professor Dumbledore's office and gave it the password given in her letter. After a short ride on a revolving staircase, she knocked on the door and entered at the Headmaster's beckoning.

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk in the strange and whimsical round office. The walls were lined with portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses. Beside the door, a hatchling of a bird sat precariously on a perch amongst a pile of ashes. Hermione's eyes lit up as she realized that she was gazing upon Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix. The student inside of her wished to inspect the bird closer but at the soft chuckle behind her, she remembered the prior engagement that she was currently late for.

Taking her seat in a chair in front of the Headmaster's desk, she said, "I suppose he's just been reborn?"

Dumbledore nodded proudly, whether at his prize of a bird or at Hermione's extensive knowledge of most things, she couldn't tell. "Yes. Just before you came in."

Hermione looked back over her shoulder at the small naked and chirping phoenix and a million questions came to her mind; too many to separate and voice.

"He's beautiful, Professor," was all she could say.

"Well, I believe he is much more of a sight when he has all of his feathers," the headmaster chuckled. Hermione allowed a small smile. "How are things with Mr. Malfoy?" the dotty man asked innocently.

Hermione could not control the blush—she was always blushing!—as she stared down at her twisting fingers. "Things are...fine, I—I suppose." She saw the slight knowing smile that he gave her but pretended she didn't. That man knew more than was good for him sometimes.

"Let me give you this bit of advice, Miss Granger, and I tell you from experience: It's not always easy to love, especially someone you are supposed to hate. And for some people, it's not easy to love at all, but that's why there are people in this world that can love without restraint, to help the other's who can't love to give what they easily receive." Hermione puzzled over the words as Dumbledore sat back in his chair, satisfied, and steepled his fingers.

"I don't understand, sir," Hermione said confusedly. Her brow was scrunched in contemplation and she bit at her bottom lip mercilessly.

"Maybe not," the headmaster chuckled, "but when the words finally make sense, you will know what I mean."

_Obviously._

"But you think I love him, don't you?" Hermione asked shrewdly, glancing up at the aging man across from her.

"Love who? Are you in love with someone?" Dumbledore replied with an air of boyish innocence that was clearly artificial and annoying.

"Of course not." There was silence for a few more moments. "Um...sir?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Could we begin my Animagus lesson, please?"

"Certainly. Though I would like to discuss something with you first."

Hermione's eyebrow arched in a way that she must have picked up from Draco and that told Professor Dumbledore to continue with his discussion.

"I think Professor McGonagall would appreciate teaching you in her natural art for the remainder of your tutelage."

Hermione was confused and slightly hurt by these implications.

"You...don't want to teach me anymore?" she asked slowly, trying to understand why Dumbledore wouldn't want her to learn under him.

"Of course I do, my dear, but I'm afraid that after tonight's lesson, I will have exhausted my knowledge of becoming an Animagus."

Startled, Hermione stared at the headmaster in disbelief. "You mean, you are not an Animgus? You don't know how to become one?"

Chuckling again, the headmaster answered, "I'm afraid not. My mentor refused to teach me all I needed to know." Scratching his chin thoughtfully, he continued with, "I believe he muttered what a ruddy difficult little bugger I was, often."

Still bewildered, the Head Girl forced herself to close her gaping mouth and tried to look nonchalant about this news. If she opened her mouth now, she was sure to say something insolent.

"So, Professor McGongagall will start seeing to my extra-curricular education?" Hermione asked lightly after a slight clear of her throat.

"Yes. Every Wednesday evening, seven o' clock in Minerva's office."

Hermione nodded in understanding as the two sat in silence. Seconds ticked by in which Hermione was sure that Dumbledore was studying her. She made sure her gaze traveled through the office and tried not to fidget under the headmaster's scrutiny.

"Well, shall we begin, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked as he rose from his seat.

"Of course, Headmaster." Hermione agreed, standing as well.

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**(A/N): It's been a while hasn't it? Well, I really needed a break as I have told a few of you. I had a bout of writer's block for a while and then something took over my time that I like to call 'school' and 'life'. As I have stated before, updates will not be as frequent but you know how it goes. About this chapter, it was going to be longer but I was a bit overdue for an update and besides, if I wrote as far as I was going to, this chapter might have been twelve pages long. I guess that's it then. I will see you all in the next chapter!**


	18. An Ode to Conversations

**(A/N): Thanks to** GeminiRavos **(don't I feel special :P)**, Nicole, jessierox, blueskyshymoon08, Nick-Nack-Black, **and** Feltonsgirl90210** for their reviews!**

**jc 2021: Wow, going Goth. Never would have thought it of you. I'm not going to the Homecoming dance here, by the time this chapter is posted it will be over anyway. For Halloween I was thinking of being Goth (so cool!) or Princess Leia from Star Wars so I can wrap my hair like cinnamon buns on the side of my head... haha. Actually, now I am thinking Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. My mom is watching a costume on Ebay incase I decide to go as her.**

**the singer: Thank you and I'll be sure to get right on your story!**

**I-read-2-much: Chapter 17 was definitely important for Draco's and Hermione's relationship to grow. This chapter and the next one will be important for the same thing. Actually, this one is all Draco/ Hermione and may be the single most important relationship building chapter. But you'll just have to see!**

**Nanie-san: Thank you for your reviews! I was in band in seventh grade but the lazy creature that I am hates to practice so I didn't like it much. Hehe. I don't think my school has a forensics team but truth be told, I don't know what that is. Haha. Thanks for the advice anyway!**

**­TheOnyxDragon: Wow, would you really have done a 'proper critical analysis'? Darn that exam! Thank you for your review, and I always love to get new readers and reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: I will one day rule my own universe that people may or may not cherish. Until that day comes, Jo Rowling can keep the Potterverse.

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**An Ode to Conversations:**

Conversation in the Slytherin common room could range in volume from whispers of mistrust to strident arguments that usually led to magical duels and, occasionally, Muggle fist fights. Topics varied from the sporadically studious conversation of school to the more common suspicious murmurs of treachery (whether of that certain child or of another was never to be discerned unless one would be caught eavesdropping—not a good idea when surrounded by the ever-mistrustful Slytherins). Currently, the common room was devoid of conversation except for the inane babble of Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini; who were sitting with the silent figures of Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Draco Malfoy. The five were spread out in front of the fire; Blaise sitting in one armchair, Goyle sitting in another. Pansy and Draco were residing on the sofa which left Crabbe to scrabble for a warm bit of hearth.

If not for Draco's internal struggle—mental and emotional struggle, that is—and Crabbe and Goyle's vacant minds, the five Slytherins could have been the picture of contentment. Anyone passing by this cozy scene might have witnessed five friends chatting together and generally enjoying each other's company.

How very wrong—how very _Hufflepuff_—that person would have been.

Draco's body was strewn across the sofa; his head rested in Pansy's lap as she stroked his blond hair absently. Blaise and Pansy were talking in conspiratorial whispers about Merlin knew what, but Draco's mind was trying to imagine that his head was lying in _Hermione's_ lap and that _she_ was stroking his hair. Unfortunately, his mind refused to cooperate. While he could clearly close his silver eyes and imagine it was his love—_Wait a minute...what the hell?—_, the feel of Pansy's fingers would always be...Pansy's. Draco longed to shiver with disgust. He didn't even know why he allowed his fiancé the honor of touching him when he only wanted one other person to have him.

But she'd never want him so he had to take what he could get.

_I still have until graduation. A whole eight months._

Becoming bored of the incessant hisses of whispering, Draco abruptly stood from the sofa, glad to be rid of Pansy's clingy fingers.

"Where are you going, Draco?" she asked. How annoying. If he wanted a babysitter (which he didn't, incase it wasn't obvious) he would have asked for one. Unless the babysitter was Hermione...

_Don't go there..._

She could even have a uniform.

_Please, don't go there..._

A small little mini-skirt matched with a tight tee-shirt... to show off Granger's, uh, good points of course.

_Oh, Merlin, you went there..._

"Study," was all Draco would answer. He didn't have to talk in full sentences if he didn't want to.

Blaise was smirking. With the arching of the Malfoy brow, he said, "In the library?"

Draco answered, "Maybe." His voice was wary of where Blaise was trying to go. He wasn't going to mention what he had told him in the corridor earlier was he?

"Are you really planning on studying or do you just want a look at Granger? For all her time in the library, she should marry a book. They'd make a great match: flat and unappealing."

Draco's hands were already tight in fists. This shit was totally contradicting what Zabini had said after Draco's meeting with the headmaster. Granger, flat? Unappealing? Oh, no. She was _definitely _not flat or unappealing. Pansy's pathetic, angry little, "What are you talking about, Blaise?" went totally ignored by all. Crabbe and Goyle were staring stupidly at the Malfoy heir.

"Why would I want to look at _her_? Shut the crap, Blaise, you don't know what you're getting into."

Now Blaise looked smug and quite interestedly amused. "You're right...I don't. Maybe I should make it my business to find out? What say you to that, Draco?"

As suddenly as it had come, Draco's anger dissipated. He stretched his arms over his head and arched his back looking nonchalant and cool.

"Whatever. You do as you please. I think I'll go to my common room. It's quieter." Draco stalked out of the common room and commenced his long trek to the fourth floor. He noticed that Pansy was glaring at Blaise's surprised face and had a feeling that before long Pansy would know everything about how Draco reacted to Blaise calling Hermione a Mudblood. He just hoped that the black boy kept his promise and didn't mention the scheduled visit to St. Mungo's.

Upon entering the Head common room, Draco's eyes immediately fell on Hermione sitting at the table which was covered with pieces of parchment and textbooks. As he drew nearer he noticed that she was slumped over a book; her head perched in her hands as she slept. He circled the table and sat across from the slumbering girl, recognizing the purple ink of the book she was drooling on. His fingers itched to lean over the table and read what he could out of Hermione's diary but contented himself with averting his eyes to her face.

Such a sweet face. He didn't deserve her friendship. Hell, he didn't even have her friendship and he realized... he didn't want it either.

_Yeah, screw the friendship, just give _her_ to me._

Hermione's hair covered most of her face; a lock of her wavy mane swayed back and forth as her even breathing blew it across a page of her diary. The fingers of her right hand curled around a quill. Draco watched her fingers with fascination; the tips of each digit were stained with violet ink as was one side of her hand, as if she had dragged the hand through the wet of ink of freshly written words. Even though he didn't want to ruin the beautiful and peaceful image before him by waking Hermione up, Draco decided that waking her now would be best; before he lost his nerve and refused to tell her what he needed to say.

With a hesitant gesture, Draco leaned across the table and shook Hermione's shoulder.

"Hermione!"

She sat up immediately, blinked several times, and looked around for an attacker. Her eyes landed on Draco and after rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she yawned.

"Hmm?" she asked sleepily. She was fully awake now and saw the huge mess she had created on the tabletop. "Oh!" And she began to assemble her notes and homework assignments, gathering her texts and books.

"I need to talk to you about something."

Stacking all of her pieces of parchment in the cover of her Arithmancy textbook, and then stacking her diary on top of all the pile of books, she became comfortable and watched Draco. She clasped her hands together on the tabletop, looking faintly interested at what Draco wanted to talk about.

"It's about my mother," Draco said in an unnecessary whisper. Was it just him or did Draco see guilt flit across Hermione's brown eyes? She reached across to place a comforting hand on his arm and he did not move away. "Dumble—"

"Why don't we get more comfortable?" she asked quickly, before he could finish what he was going to say. Draco wasn't quite sure what she meant. She wanted to get comfortable? In bed?

She stood from the table and moved to the sofa, tucking her legs under her body.

Of course. Duh.

Draco gulped and stood as well, perching himself on the opposite end of the sofa. Hermione's eyes were soft and encouraging. Taking a deep breath, he continued.

"I wanted to ask you a favor. Of course, you shall receive something in return; anything, actually." Draco kept his gaze on Hermione's eyes as if to drive his statement home. Hermione looked slightly disappointed and Draco tried to imagine why.

"Draco, didn't you ever think that I might want to do something for you and not think of getting something back?" she asked sadly.

"Oh, I think you'll want payback if you do this for me. I'll understand if you don't want to do it though." The Head Girl simply nodded for him to continue. "Dumbledore,"—he spit the name out with disgust clearly evident and ignored the disapproving pursing of her lips—"set up a day for me to visit my mum. He said I could take someone with me and I'd like you to come."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise. For a while she didn't say anything.

"Could I hold you to your word until another time or do I have to use my payback now?" she finally asked.

"Does that mean you'll come with me?" Draco asked hopefully.

"It all depends on how you answer this question!" she teased.

"Yes. Yes! You can take your payback whenever! So you'll go?" Draco could not explain the funny giddiness he was feeling, nor could he understand it.

"I suppose. She should be relatively harmless, right?" Hermione asked about the madam Malfoy.

"Well, seeing as she's unconscious, yes, she will be harmless." The two fell into silence again, staring into the fire and thinking their own thoughts.

"My turn..." Hermione said slowly. Draco could tell by her cautious tone that she wasn't confident about Draco's enthusiasm to the next topic of conversation. "Lucius..." And then he knew.

With tight lipped admittance, Draco said, "I don't know if he is alive or not but I have a feeling—a strong, screaming feeling—that he is. And I have no idea who could have attacked my mum or if it was Lucius and if it was why he would have done so, though again, I have ideas." He spoke in a sardonic drawl that he tried to hide his despair under but amazingly, Hermione could see right through it.

"I have a strange feeling too, but my feeling is that all will be revealed soon. It's strange but that's what the queasiness in my stomach is trying to tell me," she said, trying to relate with how the blond boy was feeling.

"You're stomach talks to you?" Draco teased in a skeptical tone of voice.

Hermione giggled and slapped his arm playfully. "Of course not, silly!" Draco would have normally tensed and hexed the nearest person at being called 'silly' but found that if Hermione Granger was the one calling him such a thing, he didn't mind at all.

"I have one more thing I want to ask you about," the Head Boy said cautiously. He would now be treading in dangerous waters and he didn't want to make Hermione mad or offend her if he could help it.

"Yes?"

"Have you seen Madam Pomfrey...about your condition?"

Unfortunately, Hermione did become offended. Her body tensed and Draco could almost hear her teeth grinding as she tried to control that flammable temper of hers.

"My..._condition?_" she asked.

"You know what I mean," he replied quickly.

"Yes, I do, but you make it sound as if I have a disgusting disease!" Rubbing his face wearily, Draco sighed in exhaustion. He was just ready to go to bed now but he had to get this out in the open. It was just eating him up inside.

"Fine. Have you see Madam Pomfrey about your _reactions?_" he tried again, unable to hide the bitterness from his voice.

Hermione calmed down and her body relaxed. Strange what a simple rewording of a sentence could do... Words really did have power, he supposed.

But even though her body had seemed to relax, her reply was still bitten out savagely.

"_No_." Her tone brooked no argument but Draco, becoming angry himself, was not quite through.

"Well, why the hell not! Have you seen _any_ magical healer, _at all_?"

"No!"

"_Why not!_" he screamed, jumping up from the sofa to stand in front of the sitting form of Hermione and giving her the same glare he had given Blaise earlier. He couldn't really understand his rage at her but seeing her face becoming stonier by the second, he had another realization: he was _worried_ for her. Where did that come from? It was one thing to be attracted to her, to kiss her and maybe want to fuck her, but to _worry..._? That went far deeper into his heart than he was willing to go.

"Because it isn't Madam Pomfrey's business! It isn't _anyone's_ business, not even yours so butt out!" she screamed back at him, standing also to glare defiantly at him. This statement may have unhinged Draco because his anger seemed to increase tenfold.

"Not my...Not my business? NOT MY BUSINESS? It bloody well _is_ my business, woman!"

"I fail to see where you would think that," she said with impertinence. Her arms crossed over her chest like an angry mother scolding her disobedient child.

Draco took a furious step closer to her, grabbing her upper arms and trying to control the urge to shake some knowledge into her.

"It _is _my business, Hermione. It's _been _my business since the day I saw you throwing up blood in our bathroom. Then after you told me all about it last weekend, you've put me right in the middle of this whole damn business. This concerns me as much as it concerns you, do you understand?" He was surprised at how calm his voice came out.

Seeing tears well up in her eyes as she looked him straight in the eye, Draco had another urge that he didn't want to control. Surrendering to his impulse, he pulled her close to his body and wrapped his arms firmly around Hermione's waist. Her fingers clung to his robes as she cried into his chest. For a minute, Draco's body was tensed and he wished he hadn't given in to such a weak act.

_'Yes, you're weak, boy. How could _you_ ever be called a Malfoy?' _Lucius's voice was back full-throttle it seemed.

_I'm not weak...Love is not weak._

He paused in his deliberations at this thought. Love...

Love...

Yes...but he knew nothing about love...

He loved his mum, but he was ashamed to admit it. If he really did love Hermione, he'd never be able to tell her. How could he? He felt weak—_I'm not weak—_just thinking such a thing and he highly doubted she would return the feeling. To protect his dignity and pride, Draco would not tell her; even if it was what she wanted to hear.

Hermione pulled away slowly and looked up into Draco's usually cold eyes. He tried to glare at her but his eyes seemed to have softened. She gave him a small smile that he didn't deserve. He tried to scowl at her but he knew that his lips formed a smile back instead. She reached up on her toes and Draco knew that she was aiming for his cheek—a kiss. At the last minute, she switched directions and kissed his lips softly. Draco's fingers tightened around Hermione's slim waist as he returned her kiss and pulled away. His body couldn't feel any hotter if he had been thrown into a Hawaiian volcano.

The smile slipped off of Hermione's face as she pleaded, "Please, Draco, I beg of you... don't tell _anyone_ about my reactions. Not a teacher, not a... lackey, not a _soul_. I have my diary with me all the time and it works... I don't need any more medication. _Please_."

Oh, hell, make that Pompeii.

What could he do in a situation like this? She was so beautiful with those tear drops still clinging to her eyelashes, her sad brown eyes looking upon him with trust, her face flushed from yelling and crying...

"Of course I won't," he replied grudgingly. But he promised himself that at anytime he thought she might be in danger because of these reactions, he would throw her over his shoulder kicking and screaming and take her to the Hospital Wing.

"Thank you," she breathed softly, issuing a sigh of relief.

Yes, he was worried about her.

Yes, he liked her.

And, damn it all to hell, yes, he loved her.

_I love Hermione Granger._

He could admit it to himself and that was a start.

* * *

Snape stalked across the dungeons during Hermione and Draco's first period Potions class, taunting the empty seat next to Hermione where Neville Longbottom used to sit. It had taken less than two weeks for Neville to finally drop the class, not being able to handle Snape's comments or the difficulty of the potions. Personally, Hermione had been happy to see him leave. His exploding cauldrons, while a great distraction from the blond guy usually sitting beside her, could not help but detract her attention from her own potions, which usually took a major amount of concentration to brew.

Now Snape was lecturing about the danger of a new brew that the small class would be starting that day.

"_Imperium Corporis—_the Imperius curse in a somewhat liquid state. For whatever reason some idiot created this potion, you are going to brew it." At this news, Hermione, Harry, and Ron shared a silent look of uncertainty while the rest of the class whispered to each other. "Silence! I will not repeat myself, though I very much doubt that is true,"—he looked disdainfully in the trio's direction—"when I say that this potion is extremely dangerous; not only to make it but to test it as well. And I promise you that you will test it..." Snape sneered malevolently at everyone in the room this time, "on each other."

Talk broke out across the room now, everyone completely ignoring Snape's hateful glares. Hermione glanced nervously at her lab partner, wondering if being under the influence of an Imperius potion would feel the same as being under the influence of an Imperius spell. Draco was looking back at her with something akin to... calm reassurance in his silver eyes that did indeed relieve Hermione for some reason. It was Ron's voice that brought her back to her work station.

"He can't possibly make us drink that! It has to be illegal or something!"

"How uncommonly correct you are, Mr. Weasley," Snape said from the front of the class, smiling nastily in Ron's direction. "The Imperium Corporis potion is indeed illegal as deemed by the Ministry of Magic. Any fooling around during the month it takes to brew it could land you expelled from this school. I will not tolerate misbehavior of any kind at all." Two out of the three Slytherins were snickering in the back of the room. Snape glanced over at his Slytherins and finished, "From anyone." The resulting shock in those two boys' faces might have made Hermione laugh had she not been in the Potion master's presence. She shot a fleeting glance at Draco and saw him sneering at his house mates.

Snape continued. "The instructions are on the board"—he pointed his wand at the chalkboard by his desk and words immediately filled out on the black expanse. "You will be working with your usual partners. Begin."

Hermione stood from her stool, glancing at Harry and Ron who were looking at her with sympathy. With a shrug of her shoulders, she made her way to the back of the classroom to sit with Draco, knowing that he would not have moved to sit with her; heart fluttering increasingly by the seconds.

Draco watched her sit down and pull a quill and some parchment from her bag to start copying the instructions on the board. Her attention totally focused on her task, she didn't hear the blond Slytherin sigh and say, "Fine, _I'll _go get the ingredients." As he gathered their materials from the student stores, Hermione released the breath she was holding. She had no idea why she felt so awkward around Draco when she usually got along easily with him in private.

_Because he might go back to 'normal' when other people are around. Calling me names and sneering hatefully at me..._

She realized just how much she enjoyed the Draco Malfoy she had met that Saturday; the Draco Malfoy that she could talk to and joke with; the Draco Malfoy that had invited her—_her_ of all people!—to go along with him to see his comatose mother in the hospital. She wasn't sure why she liked him so much but she did; now she felt less shallow because she knew that Draco had a nice personality to match his extremely good looks. If he ever went back to the way he was before the summer holiday, if it was all a joke to make her look stupid, she knew that she would be crushed; heartbroken, even. And even though he had never said it, never agreed to it, she thought of him as one of her friends; though she desperately wished to be more.

Draco came back to the table with all of their ingredients just as Hermione finished copying the directions. They divided their supplies between each other and began slicing, grinding, and measuring. Half an hour later, the two took a ten minute break while the potion was supposed to simmer and turn a violent shade of violet.

Finishing the final stir, Hermione checked her notes for the next step in the potion then pulled out another sheet of parchment. Snape walked by and looked into their cauldron, harrumphing when he could find nothing to criticize. Writing a quick note after the teacher's passing, Hermione slid the parchment to Draco's side of the table while looking around anywhere else and trying not to attract any attention.

_When are we going to see your mum? _she had written.

Draco read this and pulled out a quill and a well of ink to pen his reply, sliding the paper back to Hermione casually.

_'Right after lunch tomorrow.'_

Right after lunch? But what about...

_What about our classes? Who is going to take notes for me and get my homework?_

Draco smirked at what he read. Hermione tried not to watch for his reactions but couldn't help the shift of her eyes.

'_Dumbledork has it covered supposedly. You worry too much. Actually, you probably think too much too.'_

_Don't call him that! It's rude._

Draco shrugged and let out a bark of laughter. Everyone in the room looked up from their potions to stare at Draco and Hermione. To Hermione's annoyance, she could feel herself blushing and noticed Harry and Ron watching the two with hawk eyes.

"Is there something funny you'd like to share, Mr. Malfoy? Miss Granger?" Snape swooped in to their table and asked.

"Not at all, sir," Hermione replied, trying not to burst out laughing and staring at the tabletop.

"I was just laughing at Granger's supposedly flawless Valerian roots. To make our potion correctly, her work should be as perfect as mine," Draco said. Hermione had no idea where this had come from but could only stare at the young man beside her. The look of shock was not lost on her two best friends either.

Snape bent down to examine the evenness of the pieces of the roots that the Head Girl had cut. Hermione knew that she had sliced the ingredients perfectly so when the Potions master stood back up and sneered, "Do it again," she was totally baffled. Snape moved on and she glared at the smirking Draco.

After the class had gone back to their work; Hermione added her new roots to the potion; and Draco stirred it, another note was passed to the Head Boy.

_What the hell was that for?_

Draco penned his response and sent the note back.

'_It was a cover obviously. Just having a bit of fun.'_

_Fun? Just having fun? Fun at my expense?_

_'Yes, I suppose.'_

_You are infuriating!_

_'Why thank you.'_

_It's not a compliment you idiot!_

_'And yet you love me.'_

Hermione paused after reading that. She glanced over at Draco who looked a bit discomfited. Where did he get that from? She now had the parchment on her side of the table and she saw Draco motioning to have it back. She shook her head.

_Right. And yet I love you. (Note the teasing tone, please.)_

She pushed the parchment back to Draco.

_'I didn't mean to put that there. I mean, it was a joke. Right?'_

_Right. Don't have a cow._

Draco read those words and wasn't sure what to make of them. Hermione laughed this time at the look in his eyes. She pulled the list of notes back to herself and wrote:

_It's a Muggle expression. _

She sent it back.

_'Oh.'_ was all that he wrote.

_You look nice when you smile. You should smile more often._

Draco just stared at the blushing Hermione for a while. What could he be thinking now?

"Thank you, Hermione," he said with complete seriousness. Hermione smiled at him slightly, aware of the class around them, and nodded in acknowledgement.

But before they could do anything more, Snape had come back to their table at Hermione's laughter a few seconds ago and the sound of Draco's thanks.

"Something must be so obviously funny that neither of you can stop laughing. Ten points from Gryffindor," he said, not even taking points from Draco. He held out a hand. "Give me whatever notes you seem to be passing. Shall I read them aloud?" he asked with a sinister smile. He took the parchment from Hermione's hands and read over it. Hermione watched nervously as his eyes narrowed on what he was reading then widened. He then looked at the two Head students with a calculating expression but said nothing, to Hermione's relief. He pocketed the paper and stalked off again to sit behind his desk. Every once in a while, he glanced up at a certain two students as if they were strange creatures from Pluto that he had never seen before.

Hermione noticed again that Harry and Ron turned back every once in a while also, to glare suspiciously at her and her partner. She knew they would be asking for an explanation later. Snape had said they were passing notes and then had done nothing after pocketing them. That was certainly going to need some explaining which Hermione was certainly going to dread.

Hermione and Draco finished the stages of the potion that they could during the remaining minutes of class and bottled what they had to work on the next time they met for that class. Both students had a hard time concealing their smiles and they didn't dare write anymore notes. After Potions, they each had different classes and parted ways, this time completely unaware of Harry and Ron's glares.

* * *

Severus Snape sat down for lunch on Albus Dumbledore's right side in a right mood and completely confused at what he had witness in his first class. Did he see right? Had _Hermione Granger _and _Draco Malfoy_ really been smiling at each other? Had he read those notes right? Was Granger going to go with Draco to see his mum in St. Mungo's? And was he blind or did the Potions master really read that Granger thought Draco looked nice when he smiled? Why hadn't the Head Boy hexed the Head Girl for that? Was it the Apocalypse? Was the world ending for Merlin's sake?

"You look troubled, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Pass the potatoes."

Severus passed the bowl of mashed potatoes to the Headmaster while scowling.

"I think you would be troubled too if you had witnessed what I had." He picked at his food with his fork. Gryffindor and Slytherin. They had been enemies for years. What a shock! What a realization! The two biggest enemies of the school... an item. Severus never made it his business to find out the gossip of Hogwarts... but this? This was... insane!

"Oh?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, you senile old man! It seems as if your plan is working," Snape replied.

Dumbledore took no offense from the seeming lack of respect and faked casualness as he buttered a roll.

"And what plan was that?"

Snape sighed in exasperation and pulled the piece of parchment laden with notes out. He handed the paper over to the Headmaster with a look of disgust and shoved some mashed potatoes into his mouth.

Dumbledore looked at the parchment curiously and unfolded it. He read through the notes quickly and by the end, his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

"What's that?" Minerva McGonagall asked from the Headmaster's left.

"Hm. You might find this interesting, Minerva." Then Dumbledore handed the parchment to the Head of Gryffindor to read.

She also scanned through the notes quickly and was smiling by the end. She chuckled lightly and asked, "Who are the two lovebirds?"

Snape leaned over the Headmaster to snarl at the Transfiguration teacher, "Can't you tell? Don't you recognize the handwriting? You've only seen it every other day for six years."

Minerva scowled disapprovingly at the Potions master and took a closer look at the handwriting on the parchment.

"It does look familiar..."

"Yes, Severus, enlighten us as to who these two are," Dumbledore said. Snape could tell that he probably knew very well who wrote those notes but was only trying to get Snape to admit that the insane plan had worked.

Looking extremely agitated, he said, "I confiscated that piece of parchment from Malfoy and Granger."

"WHAT?"

* * *

The students and teachers eating lunch in the Great Hall looked up at the head table at the Transfiguration teacher's outburst. It was clear for all to see that something was making Dumbledore extremely happy, Snape surly, and McGonagall was just in a state of disbelief. She was staring at two certain students who had not budged much in the commotion and who everyone else paid no mind to.

Throughout all the speculator-y whispers of students wondering what was wrong at the head table, two students glanced back and forward at each other, trying not to get caught staring, completely oblivious to the people around them. Meanwhile, one raven-haired boy and two ginger-haired siblings glanced back and forward between Hermione Granger and the object of her scrutiny. Two out of the three of those students were not happy in the slightest. Hermione Granger was going to have a lot of explaining to do and a lot sooner than she thought.

* * *

**(A/N): This was a long one, but this needed to be said. Again, I cannot guarantee that the next update will be soon so you'll just have to hang on. I try to get the chapters done as quickly as I can with school and everything going on. So I'll see you guys in Chapter 19 (!).**


	19. Open Arms

**(A/N): Reviews galore! Thanks everybody! And the Academy Award goes to...** jynnx, Iluvdraco18, mouse10, I-read-2-much, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, princessgrl, Gryffindor620, mrs. skywalker, Nick-Nack-Black, Feltonsgirl90210** and **jessierox

**the singer: I'm so happy you commented on Snape because I was hoping he wasn't like in some DM/HG stories I've read; even though he isn't a main character in this story (or in those ones I read that I was talking about) he still needs to be in character. Besides, I was wondering if anyone would say something about him and you did! I'm glad I'm doing something right by him especially since my next story is going to be all about Snape (and Hermione)! Thank you so much!**

**-sup3rstar-: Compliments and (CONSTRUCTIVE) criticism is always welcome ! When I first thought up my version of Makeover!Hermione, I hadn't cared that it was overdone and illogical. Oh, well. I've moved on and I'm not going to change it (anytime soon). The story is how it is. And I think the rating is fine how it is. It's been nearly 8 months since I first posted this story and I haven't been reported. Besides, you see worse stuff in PG-13 movies so I think I'm alright. I'll know when to up the rating if I have to. And I really didn't know that my story was so amusing...haha. Thanks bunches for your helpful reviews!**

**Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related characters, settings, and terminology that you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm just using them for my own fun.

* * *

**

**Open Arms:**

Hermione was sitting at dinner that same day, buttering a dinner roll when Harry and Ron squeezed into the bench across from her. Their faces portrayed _we're-not-very-happy-with-you _looks of confusion and anger that Hermione could tell was going to lead to a line of questioning that she was _so_ not ready to handle. She sighed and put her roll and butter knife back onto her plate, tucking her hands in her lap and waited for the inevitable question attack.

"Yes?"

Because Ron was spluttering, and thus incapable of speech, Harry spoke first.

"Were you passing notes to Malfoy in Potions this morning? I mean, we would understand if the notes were just going _through_... um...uh..." The look on Hermione's face had caused Harry's voice to fade.

"Yes, I was passing notes to Draco."

Ron, bless his soul, found his voice and spoke at the sound of the Malfoy's given name.

"Draco? _Draco,_ is it now? What are you doing with him?" he asked in a harsh whisper. He was nearly standing from his seat when Harry put a hand on his arm. Luckily, no one around the trio seemed to be paying any attention to the ruckus that was certain to be made.

"Yes, it's Draco, Ron. We're friends," Hermione said, just being able to control her annoyance from showing on her face.

"I know we're friends, Hermione! What's your point?" he asked. He was so thick sometimes! How could an intellectual person like Hermione have _liked _him at one time?

"No, Ron! _Draco_ and I are friends!" she corrected him.

Harry and Ron paused in shock.

"_Since when?_" Ron asked.

Hermione fidgeted under Ron's angry eyes.

"Um... well, Draco never really agreed to be friends but we made a truce on Saturday," she replied.

"A truce?" Harry and Ron exclaimed at the same time. Harry spoke next in a bewildered tone.

"On what grounds?"

"The Hogwarts grounds, duh."

"You know what I mean, Hermione!"

The Head Girl stared at her lap and answered, "Yes, I do. He told me something that he might not have told someone else... I—he did something that he didn't want to be caught doing..."

Ron interrupted Hermione's explanation, rubbing his hands together and saying, "Excellent! We can use it against him. What did he do?"

"I'm not going to tell you!" She ignored Ron's affronted expression and continued. "The point is, I told him something about me that I didn't want others to know too so I asked if we could start a truce. We promised to be civil to each other, not to call each other names, or tell anyone the other's secret."

Ron looked like he was going to say something else but he shut his mouth from a look on Harry's face. He sighed and glared at Hermione.

"Fine! But just promise me that you are—_will _just be friends with him, nothing more." His voice was almost begging. He looked so young and nearly pathetic.

Hermione stared at Ron, unsure of what to say. Of course, she and Draco weren't even friends, really, and he had a fiancé apparently... she didn't think that anything would happen between them... Her eyes shifted from Ron's pleading blue ones a bit to the right of his left ear, seeing Draco at the Slytherin table. He was laughing at something and looked so handsome with his lips turned up in a smile. She had meant what she had written in that note that morning: he _did_ look nice when he smiled. That was the way she preferred him. The only thing wrong with the picture was Draco's eyes. They weren't smiling like his mouth.

He turned and saw Hermione staring at him. Her heart fluttered uncontrollably, something, she noted, it never did with Ron. His smile softened and his eyes lit up in a subtle way so that the Slytherins wouldn't notice. He nodded at her and she smiled and nodded back. Harry and Ron were waiting expectantly; Ron had an impatient look on his face.

"I'm sorry, you guys. I can't promise that." Her voice was firm; she would _not_ back down from what may or may not be possible just because Harry and Ron disapproved.

"WHAT?" Ron screamed, standing from the Gryffindor table and catching glances and interest from people around him. Hermione tried to hide her face while glancing at the people watching her with embarrassment, noting that about ten people around her at that table, a few Ravenclaws at the next table and Draco were among the ones watching. The Hufflepuff table was completely oblivious to the commotion all the way on the other side of the hall.

"Why do you want _him_ when you could have_ me_?" he continued quite loudly. He was pathetically begging trying to understand Hermione's motive.

"It's over between us, Ron! We agreed that we were better as friends than as a couple!"

"No, Hermione, _you_ didn't want to be a couple anymore," he said in a steely voice.

"B-but you agreed, too!" she stammered.

"I only agreed to it because you wanted to end our relationship! _I _still want to be with you!"

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, looking at everyone staring at her. Ron was still standing in front of the table, panting and watching her with pleading eyes.

"I love you, Hermione," he said simply in a near whisper but those students paying enough attention could hear every word. Gasps could be heard around the Great Hall along with sounds of "Aaaaaawwww!" from a few girls and if anyone had bothered to check the Slytherin table, they would have seen the Head Boy looking extremely furious...

Tears instantly sprang to Hermione's eyes. She just didn't love Ron in that way; she couldn't, she wouldn't!

She stood from the table as well to be closer to Ron's eyes. Looking deeply into his pale blue irises, she said, "I'm sorry, Ron, I love you but I just can't be with you like that. You're like my brother..." she said sadly.

Ron glared wickedly down on Hermione and smiled cruelly. "Out of anyone you could have picked, you picked _him_. How could you love that rodent? Oh, but I know... of course...I should have known, but I didn't think you were like that, Hermione."

"Like what?" she asked tentatively. It was just upon her to say that she really didn't love Draco yet but Ron's eyes were piercing her, making her forget her thoughts. She hated that smile, that glare, that tone of voice. He looked and sounded like he'd been driven mad.

"Either you want him because he has money or he can give you what I can't," he said. If it still hadn't been for that smile, that evil smile, Hermione would have thought that was the end of his sentence. But she knew...an accusation was coming and she wasn't going to like it... "and taken what I couldn't have..."

"What are you talking about, Ron?" Harry asked, looking worried by that crazed expression too, it seemed.

"I bet she's slept with him... I bet she likes it..." Leaning forward and whispering into Hermione's ear so that no one else could hear, Ron said, "Do you like the sight of his pale body on top of you? His eyes staring at you possessively... It could have been me, but no more..." Startled, stunned, and disgusted, Hermione pushed Ron away from her. He tripped over the bench and fell onto the floor. A few people laughed but the people close enough to see his face didn't dare.

"I can't believe you would think...You know I'm not like that... Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing... You shouldn't be acting this way..." Hermione cried pleadingly.

Ron looked like he was on the verge of tears. His face crumpled and he looked genuinely sorry and embarrassed for the way he had just acted and the things he had just said. Standing up and dusting off his shabby black robes, he looked Hermione straight in the eye and said, "I know you're not like that. I'm sorry." Without another word, he turned and fled the Great Hall. Hermione wanted to go after him, to comfort him and make him feel better like friends were wont to do but she knew that even the sight of her would only make things worse.

She sat back down on the bench again, stunned and hurt, just staring off into space. Harry looked at her with hard concern, a strange combination of betrayal and friendship.

"He just feels betrayed," he said. Hermione heard and focused her eyes on the raven-haired, bespectacled boy. "And frankly, so do I," he finished.

Hermione's anger flared. What business was it of his?

"Well, _frankly_, Harry, it's none of your business who I want to have a relationship with! He's my friend; I'm not making him be yours too!"

"How do you know he isn't trying to get to me through you, Hermione? He could be using you!" Harry said, standing up to glare down at her so that Hermione had to stand again too.

"And why do you think everything is about you? We have never talked about you or Ron—_ever_!" she screamed back at him. Most of the attention in the hall was focused on the two best friends. Hermione grabbed her half buttered dinner roll and stalked out of the Great Hall, never once looking back at the people watching her.

* * *

Most people at their tables were confused as to whom Hermione was having a relationship with that was so unsatisfactory for her two best friends. Several people had general ideas that she was seeing one of the Slytherins though they weren't exactly sure who. Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, and Albus Dumbledore were among the very few people who knew or guessed who this mystery person was. All in all, tonight was going to be a night for rumors that would plague Hermione the next morning. And judging by the darkness of the clouds and the brightness and frequency of the lightening on the enchanted ceiling, it looked like it was going to storm...

* * *

Hermione raced back to the Head common room, angry at Harry for acting like the world revolved around him, angry at Ron for acting like a prat and loving her, angry at herself that she couldn't just love him back... She knew all these thoughts were unfair. Harry didn't think the world revolved around him; he was just worried about Draco's motives. Ron had acted like a prat but out of worry as well and probably disappointment that he and Hermione could never be. She couldn't be angry at herself for not loving Ron as more than a brother; she couldn't help that she felt a _little_ something for Draco Malfoy instead.

_But it wasn't supposed to happen like this. _she thought.

Hermione was never really a romantic. She had always dreamed of falling in love with a man who loved her in return, preferably after she left Hogwarts and was settled into a comfortable living, and then starting a family with one or two children. Harry and Ron would be her best friends through and through until their death in a hundred and fifty years, not fall in love with each other and hate each other because of jealousy and betrayal. Her friends were supposed to support her decisions and like the man she would one day marry.

Not that she was going to marry Draco. He had a fiancé and, she could never say it enough, he had never even assented to being friends with the Head Girl.

Out of all of the books she hated to read, it was the ones full of impossible romance. She thought most romance books were completely fraudulent and had no shred of reality in them. Really, could someone fall in love in just seven days?

_It's possible..._ she thought. _But would a love like that last?_

Stalking up to her room and pulling out her homework to finish before she went to sleep, Hermione hoped so. She was almost certain that she was falling for the junior Malfoy. She wasn't sure how. She hadn't even really liked him until Saturday! Besides the fact that she had always had those weird feelings for him—more of an attraction than anything—she was seeing a whole new side of him that she hadn't known existed...

Nearly ten minutes later, Hermione heard the closing of the portrait in the common room, signifying Draco's return from dinner. His footsteps sounded up the stairs and the door on the landing to his room closed with an audible click of the magical lock. She scribbled a few more notes onto her piece of parchment but found it increasingly difficult to concentrate when she heard him enter the bathroom and start the shower. Why didn't these rooms have silencing spells on them? Why, why, WHY? For a moment, she thought about putting one around her room herself but for some reason, didn't want to block out the sound of Draco. What if he tried to knock on her door and she couldn't hear him because of the charm?

Not long after that thought, the sound of the shower stopped. Hermione could hear Draco's footsteps echoing off of the white tile as he walked around the bathroom. She held her breath, hoping for some strange reason she could not put into words that he _would_ come to her door and knock. To say something to her, maybe just wish her goodnight...

But his footsteps died off and his door clicked shut. Hermione let out the breath she was holding feeling slightly dejected. Then she felt completely stupid for hoping for such a childish thing. What could Draco possibly have to say to her that he couldn't say later? Absolutely nothing, that's what.

Pushing her homework off of her bed, Hermione got comfortable under her red satin comforter, extinguished the lamps, and fell into a fitful sleep.

It was a loud crack that woke her up again. Her heart pounding in fright, she shot up in bed, her forehead was slightly damp with perspiration. She wondered what had awoken her from an already troubled sleep when the cracking sound could be heard again accompanied by a bright flash of white light that lit the entire room. Her head spun towards the window when she finally noticed the sound of pelting rain. It was storming outside. From the sounds of it, it was raining Ford Anglias.

Hermione might have laughed had she not been so terrified.

She pulled her wand out from under her pillow and silenced the room like she should have a few hours before. Laying back down again, she pulled the covers over her head, turned away from the window and clenched her eyes shut tight. It was no use. Though her back was turned to the window, she could still see the flash of the lightening through her eyelids. The bass sound of the thunder rumbled through her body, reverberating through her room until she thought the storm might be taking place in her heart. She couldn't hear the thunder anymore but she could feel it and she knew it was there. Another flash of lightening had her jumping out of bed, frightened and shaking.

What to do, what to do? Draco wouldn't care that she was afraid of thunderstorms. He wouldn't care if she couldn't sleep or was about to cry. But he did owe her something... whether he wanted to do it or not... Hmmm...

She flew to the bathroom door and was halfway across the tiled room when her head cleared enough to think semi-straight. A voice in her head was telling her to stop, to wait, that she couldn't run to Draco's bedroom like she used to run to her parent's bedroom when she was little. He wasn't a parent, a brother, or Harry or Ron. He would probably expect something entirely different from her if she were to knock on his door wearing flannel pants and a tank top, asking to sleep with him because she was afraid of a little rainstorm.

But then again, it wasn't some little rainstorm to her. Maybe she had a phobia. Maybe she was going crazy.

_Oh, yes, I forgot that I've already determined that I am indeed crazy._

The bathroom was pitch black and freezing. Barefooted, Hermione hopped from one foot to another, feeling as if she was walking on ice. This room had no window and the sound of the storm could not be heard. Hermione thought the peace and quiet of the bathroom was eerie when outside, a storm raged like Hell's gates had burst open. But just like when she had silenced her room, it didn't help that she _knew_ the storm was outside. Besides, the bathroom was freezing and she had left her wand in her bed. And there was no way she was going to go back to her room!

For what felt like many long indecisive minutes, Hermione stood in that same spot, cold and whimpering. If she didn't do something fast she thought she was going to start crying, maybe faint, or even worse... throw up. And how was she going to get to the toilet if she couldn't see through the darkness?

She finished the last few steps that led to Draco's door and stood nervously in front of it, not even sure if she was standing in front of the door or if she had gotten lost in the darkness and was about to try to knock on the shower. Twisting her fingers and cracking her knuckles fretfully, Hermione bit her lip trying to think up a reason she shouldn't ask this favor of the Malfoy heir. Of course, many reasons zoomed through her analytical mind very quickly but none were enough to disestablish her resolve.

Three knocks on the door but it did not open. Three more knocks, this set a bit louder and a bit more persistent but still no one came to the door. Hermione was about to knock again when the door finally opened and a groggy looking Draco stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of flannel pants, the light from a lamp casting a ghostly golden glow on his pale skin and platinum hair.

"Yeah?" he asked in an un-suave, un-sophisticated, un-Malfoy way. He scratched his tousled head and yawned, all the while squinting and blinking in the dim light that he was still trying to get used to.

"I'd like to use my favor now," Hermione replied simply.

Draco could see the tears in her eyes that were silently pouring down her face. Had something happened to her? Was she alright? He couldn't show any concern towards her so he acted cool and non-caring.

"What could you possibly want at three in the morning?" he asked and crossed his arms over his chest. "Can't we do this... uh...whatever it is you want... tomorrow?"

"No!" she cried, she couldn't go back to the darkness of her room; to the storm in her heart; to the lightening out her window. She couldn't be alone while that storm was still going on. "Please, can I sleep with you?"

One blond eyebrow arched in interest as his mouth smirked. "You want to sleep with me?"

"Not sex, Draco! Please, I'm afraid of thunderstorms!" she said as she took a desperate step closer to Draco, trying to get it through his head the seriousness of the situation. "I just want to lay with you. Please."

Draco remembered the last time she had pleaded with him (which coincidentally was earlier that day.) when she was begging for him not to tell anyone about her reactions. He had been incapable of resistance then and he knew he was going to break now.

"Draco, you said...you said that I could use that favor anytime...Well, I choose now. Please!" Hermione went on begging. It wasn't very dignified but she was terrified and would do anything to not be alone at this time.

He pretended to be so inconvenienced by his acceptance and said with a great sigh, "Fine! You can sleep with me. But I will not be forced into anything I'm not ready to do." It was a joke but he could tell by the look on her face that she didn't catch it. Draco had hoped it would lighten the mood a bit and cheer Hermione up but it didn't.

"I told you! I don't—" she started in a shrill voice, her eyes doubled in size.

Draco leaned down and kissed her lips softly. The soft caress was enough to shut her up and he gathered both of her hands in his.

"Joke, Granger. It was a joke," he said resignedly.

She could only give him a jerky nod. He noticed for the first time that her entire body was shaking. Was she really that afraid? Of a bit of rain and electricity?

An entirely serious expression was housed on Draco's face. He pulled Hermione into his room and across to the green satin bed. She did not take in her surroundings; her eyes were full of Draco.

Letting go of her hands, Draco pulled back the comforter for Hermione and walked around the bed to the other side, sliding into the soft mattress and getting comfortable. When he looked up, Hermione was still standing by the bed. Patting the empty space beside him, he said with a smirk, "You might freeze if you stand there all night, but it doesn't matter either way to me."

With that said, Hermione jumped into the bed, turned on her side facing Draco, just staring at him with the duvet pulled up to her neck. Draco was also turned on his side facing Hermione staring back into her eyes. She was still shaking and when a crack of thunder sounded, she jumped and gasped.

"Could you silence the room, please?" she asked in a trembling voice. Sighing as if he was being unnecessarily bothered, the blond boy pulled his wand out from under his pillow and silenced the room. Now, the thunder that accompanied the visibly bright lightening was unheard. Draco snuggled into the bed, trying to get warmer after standing on the cold stone floor. He closed his eyes and tried to drift back off to sleep but the sound of Hermione's teeth chattering incessantly was annoying him too much. Opening his eyes, he saw that her eyes were closed and she was curled in the fetal position under the covers.

Reaching out to her, Draco slipped his arm around Hermione's waist. She flinched at his touch and her eyes flew open. He pulled her close to his body, so that their chests were touching and his arms were wrapped around her waist.

"I told you I wasn't going to try anything," he tried to reassure Hermione. He closed his eyes again as he felt her body relax, her cold fingers splayed out on his bare chest.

Draco sighed in contentment, breathing in deeply to capture her alluring scent. He was perfectly satisfied just lying here with her, not kissing, not shagging. Just _being_. Yeah, it had taken her fright of thunderstorms to come to his bed, but she could have easily gone to Potter or Weasley's and she was in _his._ He felt as if he had gained a personal victory over them. Maybe Weasley had been wuss enough to _tell_ Hermione that he loved her, but _he_ was the one lying in an empty bed, unaware that his beloved/ best friend was sleeping with his worst enemy.

Once again, as Draco drifted off to sleep with a small smile tugging at his lips, his mind was filled with Hermione. His heart was filled with Hermione.

But this time, like a wish come true, his arms were filled with Hermione.

* * *

**(A/N): It's not a very long chapter but who cares. I got my point across. **

**I know Ron's lewd remarks may seem extremely out of character, but he's extremely angry and he regrets and is embarrassed by his behavior in the end. And that's all that matters, right?**

**2. **_Hermione let out the breath she was holding feeling slightly dejected. Then she felt completely stupid for hoping for such a childish thing. _**If you read the chapter, you know this is about Herms hoping Draco would knock on her door to see her. Just wanted to say, I do this all the time, hoping for stupid stuff while knowing it won't happen, then feeling disappointed / stupid when it doesn't.**

**I'm going to defend myself right now before people start commenting about this.**.. **Hermione's fright about the storm...being too afraid to stay in one place or to move... this is NOT overreacting. Believe me; I used to do this all the time about thunderstorms and nightmares when I was little. I'd be too afraid to stay in my room and too frightened to climb into bed with my parents. So, just wanted to say that I will not appreciate comments saying that Hermione was overreacting here. **

**Thank you and good night.**

**4. Title inspired by the song Open Arms by Journey. Here are the lyrics, because I feel like it. Call it the song of the chapter if you like.**

**5. See you next chapter! Special chapter number TWENTY!**

_Lying beside you  
Here in the dark  
Feeling your heart with mine  
Softly you whisper  
You're so sincere  
How could our love be so blind  
We sailed on together  
We drifted apart  
And here you are  
By my side _

So now I come to you  
With open arms  
Nothing to hide  
Believe what I say  
So here I am  
With open arms  
Hoping you'll see  
What your love means to me  
Open arms

Living without you  
Living alone  
This empty house seems so cold  
Wanting to hold you  
Wanting you near  
How much I wanted you home

But now that you've come back  
Turned night into day  
I need you to stay

So now I come to you  
With open arms  
Nothing to hide  
Believe what I say  
So here I am  
With open arms  
Hoping you'll see  
What your love means to me  
Open arms


	20. The Visit

**(A/N): Thanks so very much for all of your reviews! They mean so much to me! Thank you to **Amethyst Panther, SexyDraco04, Melsies **(you changed your name to IConquerTheWorld, right?)**, medievalrynn, Feltonsgirl90210, I-read-2-much, the singer, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, Nick-Nack-Black, Lauressa, mouse10, metalremix89, **and **jessierox.

**haylez90: Oh, my gosh! I never would have thought of that! Hehe, I did say (in later chapters as I'm sure you've read) that the beginning of the story isn't the best part... and that's the part that's supposed to pull people in! Thank you so much for pointing that out for me and thanks so much for your review!**

**princessgrl: I have friends too who say something more like, "But...don't you love me?" haha. I always say, "No." 'Cause I'm a party pooper like that. Thank you for your review! It is very much appreciated! I especially love your long ones because you don't just write, 'Great chapter, update soon' and while I love getting reviews no matter how long they are, I especially like to hear specifics of what you like/ don't like and how/ if the story relates to your life at all. Thank you again!**

**(A/N): You guys just tear (as in teer not tare) me up...** **It seems as if every chapter I get new reviewers, and I love to hear what you all have to say!**

**Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related characters, settings, and terminology that you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm just using them for my own fun.

* * *

**

**The Visit:**

An itchy, tickling sensation underneath Draco's nose accompanied consciousness when a loud, annoying buzz pierced through the hazy cloud called sleep. Draco suppressed a groan and did not open his eyes as his wizard-equivalent of an alarm clock buzzed and buzzed to wake him up and begin his day. Slowly reaching up to scratch his nose, Draco realized that what was prickling him was a lock of hair.

_Oh, Merlin! Please don't tell me that I'm drunk and have wasted a night with Pansy!_

He kept his eyes clenched shut tight, trying to take in his position without seeing the reality. One of his arms was wrapped around a slim waist—a _clothed_ waist he noted thankfully—the other was resting lightly on his stomach. He also noted that he was lying on his back with a warm body draped over his chest and a clothed leg tangled between the both of his. Draco's chin was perched on top of another head, masses of hair fanned over his body and the lower half of his face—definitely not Pansy's short mane—which smelled like tropical fruits and flowers. One of the female's arms was slung low across Draco's waist while the other had somehow been maneuvered underneath him.

Draco wracked his brains, trying to figure out what he had done last night. The only conclusion he could come to was that he had gone to sleep happier than he had ever been, had slept deeper than he ever had, and that Pansy would not be the cause of any of that. He did not think the night's activities had involved sex, which surprised him if he had been so happy.

His alarm was still going off and Draco let out his repressed groan. The body on top of him stirred and he immediately tensed, not wanting to wake the girl up. For some subconscious reason, he did not want to disturb the positions they were in and even though he couldn't explain that instinct, he respected it.

Draco opened his eyes and blinked a few times while the image of his silver canopy came into focus. Moving his head slowly, he noted the mousy brown colored hair and he suddenly remembered what had happened last night—and who was sleeping on top of him. The sound of Draco's deep, surprised inhalation of breath was enough to have Hermione's eyes fluttering open. She lifted her head and gave Draco a confused look before her eyes widened and she glanced down at Draco's bare chest.

She sat up quick as lightening, taking in the short amount of information provided about the situation. She was completely clothed so she calmed down a bit but her fright from the previous night was still a muddled mess of memories.

"What happened?" she asked with suspicion in a voice hoarse with disuse.

Draco sat up as well and replied with, "Nothing, I promise! I think we just slept."

"You think? How could you not know?" she asked in a nearly shrill voice close to hysteria. She jumped out of the bed and patted her body as if to take inventory of all her body parts; to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be and to catalogue how she was feeling.

"How could _you_ not know?" Draco rebutted but Hermione ignored him.

Eyeing Draco warily, as if he would be able to tell her how she should feel, Hermione self-consciously rubbed her arm, unsure of what to say or do but knowing that she needed to get ready for morning classes.

"I should go," she said, keeping her eyes downcast in the slight awkwardness.

Draco opened his mouth to reply but instead let out a yawn. Stealing a glance at Hermione to see her reaction, they both busted out laughing, breaking the tense silence.

"Yeah, I guess so," he finally replied when they had stopped their giggling. Hermione smiled at Draco and turned to leave, only realizing when she reached the door that she couldn't get out. "Oh, right," Draco said sheepishly, walking to the door and opening it for her.

Hermione entered the bathroom, turned, and smiled again. Draco stood in his doorway, watching her head to her room and called out to her.

"Hermione!" She turned around, the confusion clear on her face. "Don't forget about... after lunch, you know..." Hermione's smile widened at his uncharacteristic scrabbling for words. Usually, he knew exactly what to say or he wouldn't speak at all.

"Meet you in the Great Hall?" she asked.

"No," he started, "meet me at Dumbledore's office. I think he said we're taking the floo to St. Mungo's."

Hermione nodded and continued to her room. Draco never once took his eyes off of her. Even though she was ruffled from sleep, her hair tousled, her clothes wrinkled, she was beautiful—she was exceptional. And he loved her. Every time he saw her, Draco couldn't believe she was real—in fact, she was surreal, maybe ethereal. An angel; that was it. Hermione didn't have super model glamour, but she was astounding in her own sweet way. For what she didn't have in looks, she definitely made up for in intelligence, though she did look a lot prettier than she did last term. In fact, she was attracting more attention from the male population of Hogwarts than Draco liked, even though she didn't realize it.

And she hadn't told Weasley that she loved him back. Well, she had but not as more than just a brother. Draco knew the trio had been fighting about him—about Draco. He knew that Weasley assumed that she was in love with the junior Malfoy, but he didn't he deserved to be loved by Hermione Granger; he didn't deserve to be her friend, even. Though she hadn't denied that she _didn't_ love him... No, Draco was fine just loving her in secret, never knowing whether she loved him too or not.

Who was he kidding? He would never tell Hermione that he loved her but if she loved him, he wanted to know!

Personally, Draco couldn't believe that she was in love with him at all; a truth that big was too good to be true and besides, he didn't think the Gryffindor part of Hermione's personality would allow her to keep that secret to herself for too long.

Oh, but he would find out in a few short months just how much he had underestimated her ability to keep a secret...

Hermione's door clicked shut bringing Draco out of his thoughts, but it was nearly a minute later before he realized that he was staring at a closed door.

* * *

Miles away, in a dilapidated old department store deep in the heart of Muggle London, a St. Mungo's Healer bustled into a private room, humming a simple tune as she worked, checking the single patient's vital signs and tidying the room. There was a knock on the door before a wizard came in carrying a beautiful bouquet of blue narcissi.

"Delivery for Madam Malfoy," the delivery person said, reading through a list he had of all of his deliveries on a clipboard.

"Another one? This is the seventh time in seven days!" The Healer signed the clipboard and took the bouquet from the other wizard, then shut the door and moved toward Narcissa Malfoy's bedside hidden behind a curtain. There were two nightstands on both sides of the bed, one of which held another bouquet of the same type of flower. On the other side of the curtain five more bouquets were positioned around the room where ever they could fit: on tables, counters, and shelves.

"Well, Madam, someone must love you dearly to send you a bouquet everyday. Your son, maybe? Let's see what this card says..." The Healer conjured a glass vase and put this order of narcissi on one of the nightstands, pulling the card out from the stems and leaves of the bouquet. Opening the simple white card, she read aloud to the unconscious woman, "To my deepest love, my humble regrets. I apologize for my mistake." She was a bit disappointed; every bouquet came with a card that said the same thing. The medi-witch had hoped the card would have said something different a week after the first batch of flowers.

The Healer sighed. "How romantic. It's too bad your husband...um, passed away. Do you have a lover already? I didn't think narcissi came in this color." She continued to chat about everything and nothing with the unresponsive woman throughout her duties. Just before leaving the room for other patients, she checked Narcissa's vital signs and informed the woman, "Your son is coming to visit you today. Exciting isn't it? On Dumbledore's orders I hear. It's too bad he has to see you in this state. What a pity that such beauty has to be wasted..." She stared longingly at Narcissa's platinum blonde plait; her hair had been braided to keep it out of the way. Her pale face showed no sign of life but she had a harmless, innocent beauty anyway; much like a unicorn's sweet innocence.

Madam Malfoy did not stir as the Healer left the room.

* * *

Harry sat across from Hermione at lunch that evening chatting with Ginny about various things. Ron, still embarrassed about his outburst the night before, was sitting on the opposite end of the Gryffindor table, avoiding eye contact with everyone and not talking. Hermione couldn't concentrate much on her lunch when she knew that in a few minutes she would leave with Draco to St. Mungo's... to see his _mother_ of all people.

_She's unconscious, Hermione. What's she going to do to you? She won't even know you are there._

_'Maybe not but if she _did_ know I was coming to see her—me, a Muggle-born—she'd probably throw a fit. What if she wakes up?'_

Her mind did not have an answer for that.

She also couldn't concentrate with all of the whispers she heard from what seemed like _everyone_ in the Great Hall. All of the noise sounded like the angry buzz of bees mixed in with the sound of tall grass rustling in the wind. It was an annoying sound that Hermione had to grit her teeth against. People pointed as well, and she just _knew_ what was going through their minds. Some students were starting to put two and two together...and they were undoubtedly coming out with four.

The story of the note-passing in Snape's class the day before had spread; farther than Hermione had thought it would, it seemed. Add in the whole screaming match with Ron at dinner that night, and you got yourself a good deal of most-likely-true gossip. People were speculating and they weren't hiding it. In fact, as Hermione had made her way down to breakfast, no more than three different students—giggling girls, of course— had asked her if it was true that she was dating Draco Malfoy. When she had denied and made to leave the corridor as quickly as possible, one of those students had been intrepid enough to ask if that meant he was free. Hermione had turned on her heels at once and screamed, "It bloody well doesn't!" before blushing and running to the entrance hall.

If this story had spread as well... Then, well, three and three equaled six, didn't it?

Tired of stabbing her chicken leg with her fork, Hermione looked up to find Draco staring at her. She blushed—of all things to do!—but was actually pleased when he nodded at her, signaling to her that it was time to go. Placing her napkin and fork on her plate, Hermione stood up.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, interrupting his own conversation with Ginny.

"I'm not really that hungry," she replied, dodging the question asked. The Boy-Who-Lived wasn't fooled though and watched her suspiciously as she untangled herself from the bench.

"But where are you going?"

"It really isn't any of your business!" she huffed pleasantly in reply. She was becoming increasingly annoyed at Harry's nosiness. It really _wasn't _any of his business what she was going to do. "But if you _must know_, I'm going to see Dumbledore. Is that alright with you? Would you like to know what we are going to talk about? How about what I am eating for dinner? I can produce an itinerary for you if you like! Then you would know where I am at all times and never lose track of me!"

Before a startled Harry or a stunned Ginny could say anything else, Hermione stormed out of the Great Hall and stomped all the way to Dumbledore's office in a distinct cloud of anger and annoyance. By the time she had reached the stone gargoyles, given the password, and ridden the revolving staircase to the office, she had basically cooled down though she was still huffing in anger and her legs were still a bit heavy with their steps. She paused in front of Dumbledore's thick wooden doors to compose herself, and then knocked three times. The door opened of its own accord and she stepped in, expecting to see Draco already there since he had left the Great Hall before her.

Dumbledore greeted her warmly, smiling with his notorious eye twinkling and standing from his chair. Hermione smiled tentatively back and crossed the room to the desk. Finally noticing that Draco was not present, she looked around the room and asked, "Where's Draco?"

Dumbledore's smile grew wider if possible as he gestured for Hermione to take a seat and then sat himself.

"Oh, so you're on a first names basis, are you? I hadn't realized how much your relationship had grown!" Dumbledore said. The Head Girl could instantly see through his innocent façade. Since she could remember, the headmaster had always seemed omniscient; he had always seemed to know what was going on in this castle. The walls had ears... and the great wizard's twinkling blue eyes.

Hermione shook her head and raised her hands as if in surrender. "Oh, no, really, Draco and I don't have a relationship. Believe me, I don't—" Unfortunately, at that moment, Draco had stepped into the office (without knocking, might it be added!) and heard this last utterance of Hermione. At the sound of the door opening, she had spun around to face the door and upon seeing who had entered, the look on his face telling her that he had heard her, her mouth opened and formed a small 'O' of surprise.

"Draco!"

He nodded in her direction with a stern, scrutinizing expression but then almost immediately turned to the wizened, silver-haired and bearded headmaster.

"I'm ready to go," he said simply. Hermione was a bit hurt that he hadn't looked her way to see whether she was ready to leave as well, nor did he include her in his sentence.

Had he come to the conclusion that Hermione didn't want a relationship with him at all from just the answer to Dumbledore's ridiculous questioning? Was he upset by those words and by what that implied for them? Thinking this, Hermione felt like her heart was being twisted, turned upside down in her chest—the strangest, most complex feeling Hermione had ever had. She could not discern if she was experiencing pain or happiness. And this was why:

The pain clearly came from the knowledge that Hermione seemed to be hurting Draco, making him think that she wanted nothing to do with him. And unnecessarily because she _did_ want a relationship with him. She wanted to be able to kiss him whenever she felt like it instead of waiting for short available moments when Draco initiated the kiss. She wanted to know that it was alright to tell him certain things and to know that he _wanted_ to kiss her and talk to her. She wanted to have the option to sleep with him in his bed again. Most importantly, when he cried, she wanted to wipe away all of his tears, when he screamed, she wanted to fight away all of his fears, she wanted to give him her hand to hold onto, and to give him all of her.

But from what Draco heard, he probably thought she didn't want to do any of that.

The happiness came from the knowledge that if Draco _was_ upset that he thought she didn't want a relationship that meant that _he did_. That meant...that meant...

That meant that Draco wanted a relationship with her.

That meant that Hermione had a chance.

And this..._this_...made Hermione want to jump up and down and cry, to accept a lemon drop from Professor Dumbledore, and to kiss Draco with all of her heart and soul.

But he was taking a pinch of Floo powder from Dumbledore and throwing it in the fire before Hermione could react. She knew she had to be smiling like an idiot but neither he nor the headmaster was paying attention.

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!" Draco called and he was whirling away in a flash of green flame.

"Have I caused you any problems, Miss Granger?" the Headmaster asked Hermione as she stood up to reach for Floo powder as well. She was grateful to realize that he knew when he had done wrong or completely ruined any chance she might have ever had with Draco Malfoy.

The smile disappeared very quickly from her face as she answered. "Perhaps," she said sadly, sighing. "But you may have also answered a question for me that Draco would have never answered of his own volition." Her voice was still tinted with sadness. She didn't see Dumbledore's face brighten as she threw the powder into the fire.

When she stepped into the fireplace and turned around, Dumbledore said, "I think you two will work out your differences. After Voldemort's defeat, I have come to believe in happy endings more than I used to."

"Thank you, Headmaster. I appreciate your words." She smiled kindly and spoke in a clear, loud voice, "St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!"

When she reappeared, this time in a different building, Hermione saw Draco talking to a witch in lime green robes. Taking in her surroundings, she realized that she was in a reception area or waiting room of some sort. Three large fireplaces were situated along three of the walls in the room, chairs and tables ordered in the center, while the fourth wall housed a desk with two receptionists. Draco was talking to one of these receptionists.

Hermione tentatively made her way to the desk to stand next to Draco. The other receptionist gave her a bored look and asked, "Can I help you?" Hermione got the feeling of unwelcome-ness from this woman.

"N-no, I'm fine, thanks," she replied in a stutter. Draco turned and upon seeing her, his face hardened. Her heart dropped and she tried to keep the tears from her eyes.

"Fourth floor, Spell Damage," he told her, then immediately turned away and headed for the stairs. Hermione followed but Draco was moving so fast, she nearly had to run. Add in all of the people and Healers mingling around and you have a road hazard. Hermione was just barely able to keep Draco in sight.

"Draco, wait up!" she called. He slowed down fractionally, but before she could reach his side, he took off again. She full out ran up the stairs until she was directly behind the Malfoy heir again and spun him around.

"What the hell? Let go of me, Granger!" he yelled. Hermione immediately released his arm as if she had been burned, and actually, she had. The use of her last name again and yelling at her to let go of him, when he had never minded her touching him before, had stung worse than a slap across the face. Draco, a few steps above her glared down at her with his teeth clenched and his breath coming out heavily. Hermione had her head bowed in hurt and she finally allowed her tears to fall and soak her face.

Raising her head to glare back at Draco, Hermione stomped passed him without a word. Even with the tears in her eyes, she was going to be just as hard headed as he was. Even though her heart was breaking, she was going to wipe away her tears and pretend to be unhurt. He didn't want to work things out? Fine, then! They wouldn't!

A cold hand clenched around her arm. It didn't pull her back and it didn't turn her around.

"Hermione?" It was Draco's voice, soft and quiet with uncertainty, full of emotion of the mistake he seemed to know he had made. Hermione didn't turn around but just let his voice wash over her. "Hermione, I'm...sorry..." They made quite a scene standing there in the middle of a stair well, unmoving and speaking in quiet tones of their love and sorrow.

After several moments, the Head Girl finally spoke.

"Do you even know what you are sorry for?" she asked. She turned around slowly so that now Draco was the one who had to look up at her.

"Damn it, Hermione!" he whispered with hidden emotion. He leaned closer to her giving his words more of a passionate effect. "You have no idea what you do to me or how I feel about you!"

She held her breath, only just hoping that he would say what she wanted him to say.

"I'm sorry for overreacting and for jumping to conclusions," he finished. He gave no indication that he was going to say anything else. Hermione let go of that breath she had been holding, knowing Draco would say no more about his feelings for her.

Hermione turned around when Draco let go of her arm. "We can talk about this later. We are here for _you_; this is about your mum, not us." She was continuing up the stairs and therefore did not see the look of hope that briefly crossed Draco's face before his expression became blank once again.

As they reached the fourth floor, Draco asked the receptionist at the desk for his mother's room number. After receiving that, he and Hermione had to sign a piece of parchment that told what time they arrived and who they were there to see. A wandering Healer, recognizing the Malfoy platinum hair and the Malfoy silver eyes, immediately went out of her way to escort the two to Narcissa's room.

"Mr. Malfoy, a pleasure to meet you! I'm Healer Jacobs, the Healer in charge of your mother's health," the woman said. She had graying hair and a round shiny face, almost as if she had scrubbed all the dead skin off and was re-growing her epidermis. She was a slightly chubby figure in her lime green robes and had startling blue eyes that showed more youth than the rest of her body did. No one spoke as they made their way to Madam Malfoy's room; Healer Jacob seemed to realize that her chatter would not be appreciated by either of the two teenagers.

When they entered Narcissa Malfoy's private room, the first things Hermione noticed were the blue narcissi positioned around the room. Five bouquets, she counted. She looked toward Draco but he did not seem to notice anything except for the curtain hiding the bed. His face was determined and his posture guarded. Hermione could only imagine how hard it was for him to be here, especially with herself around as well.

He pulled the curtain aside and stepped towards the bed. Hermione wasn't sure what to do with herself. Should she follow Draco in? She knew he might have appreciated privacy for a few moments so she sat down in a chair by the doorway. Healer Jacobs bustled around the room humming to herself.

"Hermione..." Draco called softly after several minutes. Hermione immediately jumped up from her chair and reached Draco's side in five large steps.

Seeing the madam Malfoy so pale and lifeless on the bed made her suck in her breath. This was not the same snobby woman Hermione had seen at the Quidditch World Cup. This was not the same evil woman who had called her a Mudblood in Madam Malkin's robe shop at the beginning of sixth year. This woman was sad and pitiful. She seemed harmless and innocent... Yes, she had been beaten into a coma but when she woke up Hermione doubted she would be this harmless again.

Draco sat in a chair by the hospital bed holding Narcissa's lifeless hand between his. His facial expressions were limited and guarded but the loving way he rubbed her hand showed just how much it hurt for him to see his mother in this state.

"I'd like you to meet my mum, Narcissa Malfoy," he said quietly, looking up into Hermione's eyes as if for a reaction or approval.

She nodded and smiled. Reaching out her hand to touch Narcissa's, Hermione said, "Hello, Madam. Nice to meet you." The whole transaction was absurd but Draco smiled happily—though his eyes were still sad—and turned back to his mum.

"Mum, this is Hermione Granger, my...um..." he looked as if he wasn't sure what to put here. What was she to him? An acquaintance? A friend? A _girlfriend_? Highly doubtful.

"Your friend," Hermione murmured. Draco looked back up at her. There was a significant look in her eye that clearly said, _that's what we are. For anything more we will talk about it later._

He nodded his head in agreement. "This is Hermione Granger, my friend," he finished.

Hermione couldn't help the warm glow that seemed to shine inside her body, coming distinctly from her stomach and turning into a fluttering she hadn't experienced in ages. Had it really only been less than a week since the last time her stomach had fluttered like that? Since the last time her heart had raced and Draco had kissed her deeply? Less than a week...? These thoughts in Hermione's head caused her to blush but Draco was so wrapped up in his mum that he didn't notice. Healer Jacobs was sitting in the chair by the door that Hermione had just occupied.

The Head Girl's mind wandered as she stood there, waiting for Draco to speak or otherwise get ready to leave. She noticed two more bouquets of blue narcissi on the night tables by the bed. Walking around Draco's chair, she delicately touched a petal of one of the flowers.

"Curious..." she whispered.

Draco looked up at her whispered statement. "What's curious?" he asked.

Hermione replied, "I don't think narcissus flowers are supposed to be blue. But that could just be magic or...something...?" Her declaration changed into a question at the end when she noticed the way Draco's facial expression and body language had changed. His entire body had tensed and his face became cold with concentration.

"What is it, Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Narcissus flower, you say? These are narcissi?" he asked as he took a careful look at the blue flowers.

"Yes... I read about them in a book once. The narcissus is usually white, yellow, orange or a sort of peach colored pink. This plant is known for its narcotic properties and usually stands for vanity..." Her voice trailed away by the look on Draco's face.

"Blue is my mum's favorite color," he said instead of mentioning anything about Hermione being a walking encyclopedia.

"Oh." But that was all she could say. She couldn't find it in her to ask what was wrong, what he was worried about, or even words of comfort for whatever was bothering him. Just 'Oh'.

"Not many people know that. Pureblood society does not dictate that you should know another pureblooded family's color preferences." He seemed to be talking more to himself than explaining to Hermione. He rubbed his chin with a contemplative air. She was still totally clueless about what was going on.

All of a sudden, Draco looked up and shouted, "Healer Jacobs!" The plump witch doctor rushed behind the curtain at the Malfoy's call.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, sir?" she said too breathlessly for the short run across the room. She looked as if she was ready to stand at attention and salute him as well, like some kind of cadet in boot camp.

Draco's face had become cold again; his eyes sent shivers of chilly fear down Hermione's spine just as they had that Saturday by the lake. She was so glad that _she _wasn't on the opposite end of that glare. Healer Jacobs also seemed to realize that she was probably going to get in big trouble with the Malfoy heir and gulped subconsciously.

"Where did these flowers come from?" he asked with narrowed eyes, gesturing towards the unnaturally blue bouquets.

The Healer seamed to relax as Draco asked a question she was able to answer. Hermione was still confused as to where he was going with all this but stood by the night stand and remained silent.

"I don't know, sir. They have always been sent anonymously," the dumpy woman replied, also gesturing to the flowers.

"_Always?_" Draco asked suspiciously. His silver eyes narrowed further, if possible.

"Yes," she said, her blue eyes darting between Draco, the narcissi, Hermione and back again in confusion, "one bouquet has been delivered everyday."

Draco's face screwed up in bewilderment and soon, he was furious. "One—one bouquet—_one bouquet everyday?_" he nearly screamed.

The round woman trembled slightly under the Malfoy's anger. It definitely wasn't smart to have that family as an enemy, or at least, recognizing you for some misdeed against them. Especially since the Malfoy's were donating large amounts of galleons to the hospital _and_ Healer Jacobs was one of the most efficient Healers working there.

But Draco was continuing, ranting and pointing from the flowers to his mum to the resident Healer.

"Did you never consider how dangerous it might be to receive anonymous plants and leave them in a room alone _with my mother_? _Especially_ after what happened to Broderick Bode? Killed by a plant sent anonymously, he was, remember?"

Draco was advancing on the poor woman in the small space, pointing his finger accusingly at her face. Healer Jacobs had to quickly step backwards to get out of his path of rage.

"O-of course I know about Mr. B-Bode. N-no, I never considered the danger, sir. P-please, forgive me... I just thought a lover might—" she stuttered before the platinum haired young man interrupted her.

"A—a lover?" he said. Hermione was starting to worry. Draco looked like he had a tic, one eye was twitching horribly and a vein was throbbing in his temple. She wondered if this was the extent of his anger and this was why Blaise Zabini knew never to lie to Draco's face. Just seeing the young Malfoy in this state was horrifying. He was wringing his school robes in his hand and Hermione suspected he was imagining Healer Jacobs being twisted in his fist instead of the black, cotton material. "

"What in the bloody_ hell _would make you believe my mum had a lover? Has anyone been to visit her?" Again, the suspicious and accusatory glint was in his bottomless, twitchy eyes.

"The—the card, sir..."

"What card?" Draco demanded. His voice had risen considerably throughout the entire exchange. Hermione remained a supportive figure at his side, her face blank, her expression unwavering. As far as she was concerned, she was as against the Healer as Draco was even if she still wasn't quite sure what he was going on about. But she did remember Broderick Bode and the Devil's Snare he had been sent as a disguised houseplant, and she could see the parallel between that particular, tragic event and this one.

The frightened Healer flew to the nightstand and fished out the card hidden amidst the leaves and petals of the bouquet, handing it to the angry Malfoy with trembling hands. Draco flipped the card open and scanned it quickly. It was such a quick note that not even five seconds were needed to read it. Hermione watched as his brow creased in—worry? Confusion?—as he re read it, his eyes scanning the small piece of white paper with a frenzy, as if he was trying to understand something important.

"Leave us," he said to the Healer through clenched teeth. His breath was being let out in short puffs through his nose. This time, Hermione was reminded of the bull and the troubadour, except the troubadour had no chance of escaping the bull's charge or fury.

The Healer scurried out from behind the curtain but when neither Draco nor Hermione heard the doer open or close in her departure, he zoomed out of the curtain and screeched at her, "GET OUT, NOW! YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH DAMAGE AS IT IS!" The Head Girl jumped when he screamed; her heart beating so hard in her surprise and fright at his explosive temper and she definitely heard Healer Jacobs leaving the room. Draco didn't come back to her side by the bed so with one more glance at Narcissa Malfoy, she left the curtained bedside. Draco was pacing in the middle of the room, his head bent in anger and concentration, his hands clenched by his side, being waved around as he muttered harsh words to himself.

Oh, Hermione wanted so much to just wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his face until his anger was forgotten. She wanted to go to his side and hold his hand while he told her what was wrong, why he was so nervous and furious, because now Hermione recognized Draco's fury as worry and nerves. She wasn't sure how she could decipher his expression as that when he was clearly angry enough to kill, it seemed, but she could see something in his eyes. Those bottomless, pitiless, mysterious silver eyes that she so wanted to read and to understand. Hermione simply wanted to love him with no thought as to being loved in return. She wanted to let him know that she cared for him, and that she would go on caring for him no matter what happened.

Was this what love was? This selfless, sacrificial offering of support and affection even if there would be none in return? It was true that Hermione didn't care whether he loved her back or not so long as he knew that he had someone—he had _her_—if he needed her, even, if he _wanted _her. The know-it-all, once bushy-haired, once buck-toothed, friend of Potter and Weasley, emancipator of house elves was _there_ for Draco Malfoy.

This just _had_ to be love. She _was_ in love. With Draco Malfoy, no doubt. And it hurt so much to see him in this pain, trying to fight his battles on his own. Most of all, Hermione wanted to share his experiences, all of them, forever. With her help, maybe they could stop the pain, or split it between the two of them.

Oh, Merlin, she _loved _him. How in the name of all that is good was she going to tell him that? Or worse yet, tell _Harry and Ron_ that?

_Oh, and by the way Ron, not only have I, ripped your heart out of your ribcage and shattered it into a million broken pieces, but I am also desperately in love with your worse enemy..._

Yeah, right, _that_ would be priceless. Hermione could just imagine the argument that would follow after a pronouncement such as that.

She would have time for this sort of thinking later. Right now, Draco needed her support, and if he didn't want it, well, she would force it upon him.

Even though she loved him, Hermione was tentative about getting too near his raging, confused, worried, nervous, and pacing figure. She could tell he was a bundle of all of this unknown energy that he didn't know what to do or how to deal with. Taking a few hesitant steps toward him, Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. Draco spun around to face her and nearly pushed her hand off of his shoulder but once he realized who was touching him, he let his hand drop, his body relax, and his face soften the tiniest bit.

"What is it, Draco?" Hermione asked softly, hoping he would tell her while willing him not to yell at her with her mind.

He reached for Hermione's hand and deposited a crumpled piece of white paper in her palm, closing her fingers around it. His eyes caught hers; his expression clearly read _just read it._ He trusted her with this card which had caused him so much distress. At least he had stopped fidgeting now as Hermione un-crumpled the paper to read its contents. He was now watching her through guarded eyes, measuring her reaction.

_To my deepest love, my humble regrets. I apologize for my mistake._

This... this... it had to mean... but it can't! It couldn't be true! But...

"Does this mean...?" she said slowly, but Draco was already nodding his head in agreement.

"Yes, he's alive. Lucius is alive." He spoke the words through clenched teeth, his hands fidgeted by his sides. His eyes were cold but they had a spark in them, daring Hermione to believe what he knew had to be true.

And Hermione believed him. If Healer Jacobs, the simple woman that she was anyway, could believe that Madam Malfoy had a lover, then why couldn't the alive Lucius Malfoy? He'd probably seen or heard about something that Narcissa had done against him or against his name and beat her for retribution. When he realized that he had made a mistake, he sent his wife flowers in the hospital. The flowers his wife was named for magicked her favorite color. Blue narcissi. But did the senior Malfoy know about the narcotic property in the flower, or was that just a coincidence? Was he _still_ trying to do her harm under false pretenses of being sorry, even if no one knew he had beat his wife in the first place?

Oh, yes, Hermione was definitely in agreement with Draco about who had beaten Narcissa Malfoy into a coma... and that Lucius Malfoy had to be alive to do it.

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**(A/N): Thank you again, dear readers, for reading and reviewing! Can you believe I have nearly two hundred reviews? I NEVER thought I would get so many! I had to cut this chapter a bit short because it was getting too long, and it's probably been close to four weeks since my last update. And I ended up being a pirate for Halloween in case you were wondering (even though, of course, you weren't). ;) I haven't seen Harry Potter yet; it hasn't premiered where I live yet. But my friends and I are going to go see the premier on Friday. If any of you have seen it, I certainly hope it was good! But don't tell me how good it was or wasn't, I want to go into the movie theater with no one else's impressions except my own.**

**1. I borrowed some words from Evanescence's song, My Immortal. Since before I started writing DoaS, I have always associated that song with this story. I have no idea why, I just do. If you know the song, then you should know which words I am talking about.**

**2. My information of the narcissus flower came from www dot flowers dot org dot uk slash flowers slash facts slash k-r slash narcissus dot htm. Credit where credit's due, you know.**

**(A/N): And on a smaller note, I changed my braces colors to green and silver in support of my all-time favorite Slytherin, Severus Snape. ;) Well, I hope I shall see all of you in chapter 21 (Can you believe it?)!**


	21. Amor Prohibido

**(A/N): Thank you, dear readers, for all of the reviews and for your patience! The Author's Notes at the bottom of the chapter will tell you why this chapter is so late. I would like to dedicate this chapter to **FallenMadness88 **for being the TWO HUNDREDTH reviewer! Thank you to these kind reviewers also: **dracolover666, jc 2021, Lianne, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, angelpixii, Amethyst Panther, kat, SexyDraco04, Lauressa, dancingirl831, Frost Fae, Nick-Nack-Black, **and **Feltonsgirl90210.

**princessgrl: Thank you, thank you, and thank you! I totally agree with all that you've said. Hmmm... What will Draco do about Lucius? We'll just have to see...**

**the All-Original Paperclip: Crazy? Crazy? I would say that I'm mad. Quite mad, in fact. Thanks for your review! **

**Jaejae: I hope they are chocolate chip motivations... Have you ever heard the song Motivation Proclamation by Good Charlotte? Good song there. Thanks so much for your support!**

**the singer: Yes, that can be a problem... When I read stories and need a recap, I do just go back to the last chapter and read the last sentence, and even if the author put those sentences in the current chapter, I would still look at the previous chapter. That just works for me, and writing my chapters like this just works for me. Thank you so much for the suggestion and the review though!**

**FallenMadness88: Yes, this story is not HBP-compliant so Dumbles is alive, obviously. I totally plan on going back and correcting all of my little errors (small facts, spelling, grammar and that sort of thing) in the story but am too lazy to work on it right now. **

**True Distortion: Haha. Who doesn't hate Lucius, the evil, slimy, git that he is? Of course, some people must like him (not me though) because I am one of the weird ones who is desperately in love with Snape. So Lucius must have fans somewhere too.**

**mrs. skywalker: I'm sorry if you are confused... hehe. No, no one knows that Lucius attacked Narcissa. Everyone thinks he's dead and they don't want to open up the can of worms that he might possibly be alive. Hermione and Draco are the only ones who suspect the truth. Again, I'm sorry if that wasn't clear enough.**

**(A/N): And I think I have a flair for the dramatic... You'll see what I mean...**

**Disclaimer: Any Harry Potter related settings, characters, and terminology that you recognize is the property of J.K. Rowling. I am only using them for my own fun.

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**Amor Prohibido:**

"I think you should tell Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said once the shock of realizing that Lucius Malfoy must be alive had worn off. After seeing that realization in her eyes Draco had resumed pacing, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. As soon as she gave that suggestion though, his head snapped up with a defiant expression.

"Absolutely not!" he cried, pushing past Hermione back to the curtained bedside.

Hermione followed him while making sounds of protestation. "Why not! He'd want to know!"

Draco leaned over his mother's comatose body and kissed her forehead tenderly. After a few moments, he straightened again and swept past the Head Girl for the door.

"I don't care if he'd want to know, it isn't his business! It isn't anybody's business, not even yours so butt out!" Hermione, stunned, stopped dead in her tracks and let Draco storm into the hall. His words filled her heart with hurt and anger since she had used similar words against him just that Saturday. But her anger was dominating her actions at the moment and her blood flowed with hot lava. Hermione wanted to knock some sense into Draco, show him that even if it wasn't any of her business that she wanted to be there for him. She wanted to comfort him and decrease his pain and anger as well. WHY couldn't he just understand that?

_It might help if you told him that you wanted to care for him_ _and _then_ he could have any misunderstandings he wanted._

Sometimes, she wished her conscience would just take a hike or jump into the lake and freeze.

With this renewed anger, Hermione stormed out of the private hospital room and stomped down the hall to the stairs. She really had no idea where Draco was going and only assumed that he was leaving the hospital the same way they had come in. In fact, she found him on the second floor stairwell, staring dejectedly down the descending staircase. His back was turned to her and his arms were wrapped around his body as if he were cold.

Her footfalls echoed off of the walls of the stairwell but Draco did not turn around. She thought that as soon as she saw the blond, arrogant, conceited git that she would immediately throw herself at him and scream bloody murder. Instead, her vision blurred as she slowly drew closer to him and a few hesitant tears fell. One of her hands clasped his shoulder and spun him around so that he could see exactly what his words had done to her and how they had made her feel.

Draco's eyes were distant as he looked upon Hermione. It was said that the eyes were the windows to the soul...well, if that was true, Hermione could see trees bending in the harsh winds of a raging blizzard. She refused to allow her body to shiver as a feeling of coldness washed over her like having a bucket of artic water poured over one's head. If Draco's soul was a blizzard, then Hermione's was a volcano bubbling with raging hot anger ready to explode at any second. She didn't want to analyze why she was so angry; she only knew that she wanted to cause Draco as much pain as he had caused her... Even if she didn't know why a few words had caused her such pain.

It was probably his dismissal. He had asked for her to come to St. Mungo's with him to see his mum and then he just tells her that it was none of his business if his dad was alive?

_I don't think so._

Draco's eyes were level with Hermione's since he was standing a few stairs below her. She grasped the sides of his face and with teeth clenched, yelled at him, "_It isn't my business? _It most definitely _is_ my business, Draco! It's been my business since this Saturday when you voiced this concern with me! It's been my business since I became friends with Harry and it would _always _be my business because I'm Muggle-born! Harry was supposed to have killed him, but he didn't and we don't know what he is doing alive! For all we know, he may be trying to resurrect Voldemort! _This is my business as much as it is yours!_ Can't you see that? Can't you see that because of the way I feel about you, I just want to make you feel better? As strange, foolish, or unexpected as it may sound, I feel something for you and I hate seeing you bent out of shape and upset! But maybe I am just your little Mudblood toy; something that you've amused yourself with for the past month. Is that it? Is that what all of this is?" By the end of her tirade (Hermione couldn't even tell whether he was listening or not for his eyes were still distant and cold.), Hermione was allowing her tears to flow freely and shaking Draco by the shoulders. He was like a rag doll with his head rocking backwards and forwards on his neck and his non-responsive demeanor was infuriating her more.

So Hermione let him go. She released his shoulders and covered her face, sobbing into her hands and backing up until her back hit the stone wall of the stairwell. Her body slid down the wall and she drew her knees up, crying into her hands. Draco seemed to come out of his trance because he slid to the floor as well, crawling towards the sobbing figure. Once he was right in front of her, he hesitated, unsure of what to say or do, unsure of how this situation had gotten so out of control. Just plain unsure.

"Hermione...?" he whispered so softly he could barely hear himself over the echoes of Hermione's sobs. He reached his arms out to awkwardly wrap them around her body but she was already instinctively leaning towards him, towards his warmth and the comfort he was belatedly trying to give.

Neither of them cared that Hermione had had no valid reason to be angry in the first place; they just reveled in each other's presence and warmth. There was a time for talking later; now was just a time to _feel_, for pure emotion without thoughts. They didn't care that anyone could happen upon them and see _Draco Malfoy_ holding a crying Muggle-born in his arms... holding a crying _anyone_ in his arms. They didn't care that anyone could have heard their conversation and known that Hermione felt something for Draco or that someone was alive that shouldn't be. It just wasn't the time for caring either.

Draco personally felt like he was in a different skin. He had never in his whole life felt less like Draco Malfoy and more like a sappy, love-sick teenager. He would have never groveled at a girl's feet before, asking for forgiveness or trying to give comfort. And while he hadn't really begged for forgiveness from Hermione, he knew that this comforting action was understood as such. They may have sat there for a lifetime, or it may have been fifteen seconds. It didn't matter, but when they finally pulled away, Draco's lips found Hermione's and they were kissing once again. They were whole; they were one—the missing half of themselves. When they pulled away, the blizzard in Draco's eyes had subsided and the volcano in Hermione's soul had become extinct.

The Head Boy stood up, clasping Hermione's hand and pulling her up with him. Hand in hand, they walked down the stairs to the first floor; their eyes never left one another. People stared, people gawked, but the two teenagers didn't care. Not anymore. It seemed as if _something_ had happened to bring their relationship closer together but they had no idea what it was. If anyone were to ask them what had just happened that day, they would not be able to voice it and after this incident, the rest of the day would be a blur.

As soon as they had flooed back to Dumbledore's office, talk broke out in St. Mungo's—desperate gossiping that was passed like an epidemic. Hermione and Draco knew it, but they didn't care. It had just been decided for them, by some stroke of Fate or something else, exactly how their relationship was going to go.

But first, they had so many things to talk about; a future to plan for.

Getting comfortable back in their common room, Hermione was in a state of numbness. She had no idea what had just happened at St. Mungo's but she knew perfectly well what she and Draco were going to talk about. Not for the first time, she was frustrated with herself and her haywire emotions. One minute she was as mad as a Hungarian Horntail in heat, the next, she was sobbing in Draco's arms. And for what? Just for those words Draco had said? About not wanting to talk to Dumbledore and that the situation with Lucius being alive wasn't her business? Nothing made sense! She had no idea what was going on with her.

Instead of sitting on the sofa in front of the fire next to each other, the Head Girl and Boy sat in the arm chairs on both sides of the hearth. Hermione's legs were tucked up under her in a defensive position while Draco sat with his feet firmly planted on the ground and his hands gripping the arms of the chair. Neither wanted nor knew how to begin this inevitable conversation, but once it got started, Hermione realized, the sooner a _real_ relationship could be established. Her heart's beating sped up at the thought. It was exactly what she wanted.

For several long moments, the silence of the room dominated, giving the Head common room a tense air. The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound in the room but it was insignificant to the sounds of Draco's and Hermione's racing hearts. Surprisingly enough, it was Draco who spoke first and not until after he had gone over his words over and over again in his head, knowing that with what he would say, he could be seen as weak and vulnerable.

"You said you had—ah hem—feelings for me?"

Hermione thought neither. She thought him very brave for being the first to broach the subject at all. And vulnerable? Maybe, but it was definitely endearing in Hermione's eyes. Anyone willing to show their insecure side was someone worth talking to she thought. As long as they didn't play it up too much or were too insecure. Seeing this quality in Draco was rare and made it all the more special.

Her eyes were looking at the fire but they were not focused and instead held a faraway gaze. Draco watched the reflection of the flames dancing in her eyes, playing off of her brown irises and the pitch black of her pupils where the light seemed to be sucked in and not reflected back. He was reminded of a black hole: the depths of her eyes pulling him in and never letting him go. If he could just traverse the depths Draco felt as if all of life's problems could be solved.

"I...um...might have mentioned it..." she finally replied softly. Both of them felt a bit embarrassed and awkward talking about their feelings and remembering the way they had behaved in the last hour, but like a boulder rolling down a hill, the conversation was just picking up speed and momentum. There was no way they would or could stop until everything was out in the open.

But Merlin... this conversation was going absolutely nowhere. They both knew it but were so unsure as to how to say what was on their minds that they had no nerve to speak. They were both afraid of putting their hearts and pride out in the open to be hurt or bruised.

"I think we're doing this wrong," Draco said after an excruciatingly long and awkward silence. Hermione nodded her head enthusiastically in agreement.

"What do you suggest we do, then?" she asked.

One of those blond eyebrows arched in amusement and his eyes sparkled with teasing she hadn't really seen since Saturday.

"Oh, I think I can come up with a few ideas..." he replied, leaving the suggestion open for different interpretations. Hermione blushed at the scenario she thought Draco might be thinking but never once let her eyes drift away from his silver pools of light. The teasing glint left his eyes and he threw himself at Hermione's feet. Surprised, all she could do was watch him as he began to speak in earnest.

"I have never thought of you as a toy and the only way you are amusing is in the innocent way you behave. You are _not_ a Mudblood and I stopped using that word the day I saw you throwing up blood. You... I...lo—want there to be something between us but I'll only do what you want. I think I would do whatever you asked of me—just ask it."

Tears leaked out of Hermione's eyes as his words penetrated her brain and shattered her soul. Draco's heartfelt confession was genuine she knew and only made her stomach start its fluttering again and her spirits rise and soar with the stars and the moon. Delirious happiness. And the relationship hadn't started yet... She felt so much love for this boy that she didn't know what she would do without him. He had opened the doors into his heart and she was going to proudly dance right in. If she had her way, she would never let him go. Not for his fiancé, not for their different societies. Not even for the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry that seemed so insignificant compared to everything she had learned in this one half of a day. She loved him so much...if he ever left her, she knew that her heart would stop beating.

"What I would really like...I mean...what I want... is to be with you..." she replied quietly and shyly. Draco thought it was very becoming of her—her shyness that is. This was what he had meant by her innocent behavior. She acted so young, so pure, and so innocent sometimes that when he saw the fire of her anger, Draco almost wondered if she wasn't a different person. Both sides of her personality, her anger and her sweetness, were endearing to Draco and very much attractive.

Then what she said actually clicked in his mind and he realized that she'd just summed up his feelings exactly. Strange how whenever he was with her, he couldn't seem to concentrate properly...

"That's exactly how I feel," he said in reply, smiling widely. Hermione gave an uncertain, shaky smile as well even as her heart jumped at the sight of his smile again. Softly caressing both sides of Draco's face, she lowered her face and pressed her lips firmly to his. This kiss shook Hermione's soul and revealed a multitude of emotions and feelings of extreme magnitude. It seemed like a simple, gentle kiss but really, it was passionate, loving, and spoke volumes to both teenagers.

As her mouth opened and welcomed Draco's waiting tongue, Hermione slid from her chair onto his kneeling lap. Her arms instinctively locked around his neck, her hands tangling in his platinum colored hair. Draco's arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her as close to his body as he could without having to remove any articles of clothing. For the second time in her life, Hermione felt that same need she had felt on Saturday night while kissing Draco in the bathroom. She would give up everything she owned to feel his body against hers...to never let go of him... and to feel him all around her. Their bodies trembled with this denied need but they ignored it, not wanting to rush into anything they would regret later.

Hermione pulled her mouth away from Draco's. His lips immediately fastened on her jaw, planting teasing kisses along her jaw line and neck. Trying to capture her breath, Hermione giggled and whispered into his ear, "What does this mean?"

Without skipping a beat, his lips never leaving her skin, Draco replied huskily, "Well,"—a kiss on the corner of her lip— "Usually,"—a kiss on her jaw— "when a bloke and his girl"—a kiss behind her ear— "get all frenzied like this,"—a kiss on her neck— "they want to shag like rabbits..."

Giggling harder now, Hermione pulled away slightly and said through her giggles, "Draco! You know that's not what I meant! I mean, what are we going to do now?"

Draco arched one eyebrow and the Head Girl suspected she was going to regret asking that question.

"Shag like rabbits?"

"No!"

"No?"

"Draco, I am not sleeping with you."

"You're not?"

"No.

"No?"

"Draco!"

Hermione laughed and disentangled herself from Draco's body. Sitting back in her chair again, smoothing down her hair, she said, "Seriously, now, what are we going to do about this? We both want to be together but what does that mean?"

Draco stood from the floor and boldly lifted Hermione into his arms. She shrieked in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck, afraid of falling. He sat down in the chair she had previously occupied with his arms wrapped around her waist, her body turned sideways in his lap. The Head Girl sighed and leaned against the Head Boy's body.

"I personally don't care if anyone knows or not. I want people to know...if we start something, that is," Hermione said. Draco did not reply. He looked into Hermione's face and found her eyes closed in contentment. She was completely relaxed against his body, so Draco finally relaxed as well. "You don't seem like the kind of person who appreciates being tied down by commitment so I'm going to leave it all up to you," she finished.

Draco was not commitment-phobic whatever anyone else thought. It was just that he hadn't found anyone he would have liked to have a relationship with, and before Potter had defeated Voldemort, it would have been unwise to show that your weakness was a _person_, someone you cared for that could be hurt or lost. When it came to Pansy Parkinson, Draco didn't know of anyone who wouldn't want a commitment with her. Maybe it was cruel to say so, that no one could be happy with Pansy, but that wouldn't matter in the long-term of things. He and Pansy were betrothed and would marry after graduation.

Remembering his engagement, Draco instantly felt guilty. He loved Hermione so much and didn't want anything more than to be with her. But the fact remained that he was engaged. It would be wrong to lead her on and then have to tell her that he had to leave her and marry someone else. Draco promised himself that he would find a way to break off this engagement or tell Hermione before things got too serious.

But deep in Draco's heart, he knew... things had already gotten too serious.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, nestled in each other's arms until finally, Hermione couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, Draco, you've stalled long enough! Now really, let's go get our homework from Professor Dumbledore."

Draco's body stiffened at the name but Hermione stood before him with her hands on her hips and he just couldn't refuse her. Getting up from his chair, he sighed and grumbled, "Well, if you were _tired_ of me..." Hermione silenced him by reaching up and planting a kiss on his lips.

"Don't talk like that," she scolded. Really, how could she ever get tired of him?

Classes would be over soon so to beat the rush to the Great Hall, Draco and Hermione hurried to Dumbledore's office. On the way, Draco made sure one thing was clear.

"I will _not_ tell him about my father, do you hear me?" he said, stopping Hermione right in front of the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to the Headmaster's office. "And you won't tell him either."

Hermione usually would have huffed about how no one could tell her what to do but instead, decided to cooperate.

"Fine. It's primarily your business. That's the only reason I won't say a word about it."

Draco nodded and turned to the gargoyle, giving the password. They needn't even have to knock as they reached the top of the revolving staircase; the door swung right open. Dumbledore stood behind his desk. As they entered the room, he turned around to greet them.

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger. I trust your visit went well?" the Headmaster asked while motioning for the Head students to have a seat.

Hermione looked at Draco who was nodding his head. His demeanor was so different from what it was only ten minutes before. His face had collapsed back into a scowl; his eyes had become hard, empty, and cold, devoid of any warm emotion at all; and his body was stiff and defensive. He looked towards Hermione, his eyes reminding her not to say a word about Lucius Malfoy. Turning back towards Dumbledore's twinkling eyes, she felt herself want to shiver but refrained. How could he become so different in front of Dumbledore when he had just been smiling, teasing, and kissing Hermione? Was he going to be this way around all people, or just the headmaster?

A few minutes later, Draco and Hermione were making their way to the Great Hall for dinner after dropping off their notes and homework back in their common room. The hall was almost halfway full as they entered, each heading towards their house table. Hermione glanced at Draco as she sat down between Neville and Seamus and across from Ginny and Harry, but just as he glanced at her, she looked away.

_No need to add suspicion to those rumors if Draco doesn't want anyone to know about us..._

Hermione was slightly surprised to see that Ron still chose to sit on the opposite end of the Gryffindor table as far away from her as he could get. Hadn't he gotten over his embarrassment yet?

_But what if it wasn't just his embarrassment over making a fool out of himself that drove him away..._

Maybe...

Maybe he didn't want to be around Hermione because he believed she _really did_ have something going on with Draco, and he just couldn't take it.

_Well, now something_ is_ going on with us... He has to get over this! _

"Hey, where've you been, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You weren't in class today." Ginny watched interestedly.

"No, Professor Dumbledore pardoned me from classes," she said without giving a reason. She began piling food on her plate, ignoring the narrowing of Harry's startling green eyes.

"You've been acting strangely lately, you know," Harry started.

"My question is: why did Dumbledore pardon you from classes?" Ginny asked, interrupting whatever else Harry was going to say.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but was surprised to hear a voice she recognized answering for her.

"She doesn't have to tell you what she does all day, Weasley."

Draco. Her savior.

Looking over her shoulder, Hermione saw it really was Draco, smirking down at Harry and Ginny. All around them, Hermione saw a few people watching the exchange, Ron included.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked tiredly, as if Draco would never leave them alone and Harry had to ask this question a thousand times. It reminded Hermione of Harry's feeble attempts to get away from Colin Creevey in second year.

"To have dinner with my girlfriend, Potty. Not that it's any of _your_ business. Bunch up, Longbottom." Neville scooted over as fast as he could as Draco slid onto the bench. All the people at the Gryffindor table that had heard what Draco said were gaping like fish now. All Hermione could do was stare at the Head Boy with something akin to incredulity. She could see people watching her out of the corner of her eyes but didn't know what to do besides blush.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, more out of surprise than anger.

"Exactly what I said. I'm eating dinner with my girlfriend," he replied calmly. He also began to pile food onto his plate. Ron sat silently fuming at the end of the table, all of his fears confirmed.

"But, I thought..." Hermione's voice trailed off. She wasn't sure _what_ she thought.

Draco's head was shaking. "You said that you didn't care if anyone knew or not and you would leave the choice up to me. Well, I've made my choice." While Hermione's voice had been a startled whisper, Draco spoke loud enough that most people around them could hear. He leaned into her body and whispered in her ear, "Besides, I want people to know that you're my girl now." He gave her a wicked smile.

Hermione's heart beat faster at what Draco had said. She didn't take the statement as a declaration of ownership at all and knew that Draco hadn't really meant it that way either. Her face lit up in the biggest smile many people had seen in a while as she dug into her food. All throughout dinner, Harry and Ginny stared at the two as they laughed and talked, unsure of what to make of the scene. Ron fumed by himself at the end of the table, surrounded by talk of what was going on on the other side.

At the head table, Dumbledore smiled knowingly and stared pointedly at Snape.

"What do you want?" he asked when he realized the Headmaster wasn't going to look away.

"Why don't you take a look at the Gryffindor table, hmm?" The old man was actually glowing with self-importance. He looked like he was ready to burst.

"Why would I want to look at those—" but before he could finish his insult, he had seen Draco and Hermione sitting together and laughing.

He was speechless.

"What's this?" McGonagall asked, looking in the direction Snape was gawking to see what all the fuss was about. "My word! Is that? That can't be..."

"Yes, Minerva, that is Mr. Draco Malfoy and Miss Hermione Granger breaking bread together and enjoying the other's company. It looks like they had a good visit at St. Mungo's, doesn't it?"

Both teachers gawked on both sides of Dumbledore as he sat back in contentment. Soon all of the other teachers could see as well. There was a stir in the Great Hall and it was all centered on one, Hermione Granger of Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin. Of course, both were oblivious of the attention they were receiving; they were all wrapped up in each other.

"It would seem, Albus," Snape began, "that that insane plan of yours has worked!"

Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

"There's no need to look so smug about it!" Minerva said.

Who would have believed it? Not that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin were being friendly and companionable towards each other. No, there had been romances between those two houses before. But who would have believed that the two worst enemies of the school, a Muggle-Born and Pureblood, the best friend of Harry Potter and the son of a Death Eater, could seem so madly in love? Everyone in the school could see it. They had to be in love to be so familiar towards each other and their relationship must have been a secret. Everyone realized that the more realistic of the rumors were true.

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were an item. They were romantically involved.

Thank every deity that ever existed that Pansy Parkinson hadn't been present at dinner that night or all Hell would have broken loose.

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**(A/N): I know this chapter has taken a while to get out. I must admit, I am finding it increasingly harder to get each chapter written. Even if I know how the chapter goes, I am finding it harder to get the right words out of my head. **

**Alright, as for my excuse: first I just had writer's block and then I had decided to take a break. But then, on the 14th, my neighborhood flooded and we were out of power all day. On the 15th, we had to evacuate and move into a temporary apartment. We moved back into our house on the 22nd which is the night I finished this chapter, but we didn't have internet until the twenty-ninth (today) for me to post it. The entire week we were in this temp apartment, I had only written one paragraph of my chapter and on the 22nd I was just hit with inspiration and got the rest out! It may sound like a hard-to-believe truth, but it is the truth all the same.**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed it! I've posted Chapter 22 as well (because it got done, too in this TWO WEEKS (or something) without internet). And I've started Chapter 23 so that might get posted soon. Again, no guarantees on quick updates.**

**The chapter's title comes from a Selena song called Amor Prohibido, which means, forbidden or prohibited love. It's in Spanish if you couldn't tell and it is one of my all-time favorite songs. Here are the lyrics just because I feel like it (I realize these lyrics are probably especially useless to you):**

**I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas! Or happy holidays at least if you don't celebrate Christmas.**

**Oh, and if I had any idea how to get rid of the double spaces in between each line of the song, I could.**

_Con unas ansias locas_

_Quiero verte hoy_

_Espero ese momento _

_En que escuche tu voz_

_Y cuando al fin_

_Estemos juntos los dos_

_Que importa que diran_

_Tu padre y tu mama_

_Aqui solo importa nuestro amor _

_Te quiero_

_(Chorus)_

_Amor prohibido murmuran por las calles_

_Porque somos de destintas sociedades_

_Amor prohibido nos dice todo el mundo_

_El dinero no importa_

_En ti y en mi_

_Ni en el corazon_

_Oh, oh baby!_

_Aunque soy pobre _

_Todo esto que te doy_

_Vale mas que el dinero_

_Porque si es amor_

_Y cuando al fin_

_Estemos juntos los dos_

_Que importa que dira_

_Tambien la sociedad_

_Aqui solo importa nuestro amor _

_Te quiero_

_Amor prohibido murmuran por las calles_

_Porque somos de destintas sociedades_

_Amor prohibido nos dice todo el mundo_

_El dinero no importa_

_En ti y en mi_

_Ni en el Corazon_

_Oh, oh baby!_

(Repeat chorus 1 and a half more times)


	22. Correspondence

**(A/N): Here's a gift for your wonderful patience! We're really getting close to the end and things are about to start getting heavy...**

**Disclaimer: Any Harry Potter related settings, characters, and terminology that you recognize is the property of J.K. Rowling. I am only using them for my own fun.

* * *

**

**Correspondence:**

Dear Mum and Dad,

I'm sorry I haven't written all year. I hadn't felt like sharing my agony with anyone and I didn't want you to worry. I still don't want you to worry. I'm not going to go into detail about what happened the first month of school; just let it be said that everything is better now. It's much more than better...

Mummy...Daddy...I'm in love. I'm in inexplicable, unconditional, unexplainable love and I have no idea how it happened. I don't want you to worry, alright? No, Daddy, you can't kill him. I'm not going to tell you who he is because then I know you will worry and you will want to kill him... but I'm just happy...and that's all that matters, right? And don't worry, I haven't done anything you wouldn't want me to do yet. Not that I plan to... hehe. Oh, I'll just shut up now.

Anyways, I'll talk to you guys later. I'm fine. Harry and Ron are fine, though Ron is a bit mad about my boyfriend. He told me he loved me and I had to turn him down. He isn't speaking to me but hopefully he'll come around. We are almost always fighting but things always seem to work out in the end. Alright, now I really am going to leave you guys now. Talk to you later.

Love, your baby girl,

Hermione

Hermione,

WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? How dare you not tell me about you and Malfoy! Aren't I one of your closest friends? Wasn't I the first person you told about your little crush on Malfoy? Well, I'm going to get over my anger at you. I can't believe what that git did at dinner the other day! Oh, but the look on Harry's face was priceless! Okay, I won't call him a git. I know you are scowling about that.

Remember when I told you that I wouldn't like Malfoy until I see that he changes for you? Well, I think he has changed. I mean, at dinner the other night he was actually smiling and laughing! At you! Everyone can see how much you guys really like each other. I would say "how much you guys really love each other" but it just seems a bit soon for that. I don't know. I'm not saying that you're not allowed to love him now, but I just don't know your situation. You've been keeping this relationship a secret so no one knows how serious you guys are.

I saw Pansy Parkinson the other day. Her eyes were all red and puffy and she didn't say anything to me or Harry when she saw us. I think she's really shattered about you and Malfoy. Do you think she's jealous? That would be a first, huh? A Pureblood jealous over a Muggle-born...

And I'm sure Ron will get over his little hissy fit. He's being a stupid prat. I know he'll come around. Mum gave me some info that might just make him forget about you and Malfoy together... Can anyone say exchange student?

Anyways,

Ginny

P.S: Is he a good kisser?

Dear Ginny,

What the hell? Can you believe that? Hermione...and Malfoy? He was actually smiling, Ginny... He didn't say a single thing to/about me or you at all throughout dinner. I've never seen him like this before. It's so weird. I mean...Hermione? Why would he want to go out with her? I always thought he and Pansy would, well, you know, be together forever, get married, and have a bunch of pug-faced, greasy, blond-haired gits. Or one since they would hate kids and it looks like a lot of Purebloods (besides your family, of course) only have one kid. But that's off the point.

What happened to Malfoy hating Hermione? He used to call her a Mudblood every chance he got and made fun of her family and her—er—eagerness for learning. And you saw what Hermione did to his face that first weekend of term. He'd said some pretty lewd things to her and she had retaliated in kind. Why would they do that if they were going to fall madly in love or something? Not that they are. They'd better not. But, you know, now that I think about it, Malfoy hasn't called her a...you know...in... well, a long time. He really hasn't said anything about her at all. He kept saying stuff about us but he never talked about Hermione. That's strange...why didn't I notice before?

It's just... MALFOY with HERMIONE? Is there something wrong there or is it just me? I mean, Ron and I knew that she had a truce with him or whatever. We figured she had a thing for him but we never really expected something like this to happen. I don't know that Ron will ever forgive Hermione for this. You heard him the other night. He loves her.

I guess this all explains why Hermione's been acting funny. Does that mean she was pardoned from classes to be with Malfoy? That doesn't make any sense. Something still doesn't add up...

Ginny, I have the weirdest feeling that you know something I don't and/or that you had a part in all this Hermione/Malfoy business... Am I wrong? I doubt it.

Oh—I have to go. It's nearly curfew and I still have to mail this. I know, why don't I just hand this to you myself? But everyone loves mail. And Hedwig could use the...um... fifteen second flight.

Love,

Harry

Harry,

Just kill me now. I can't believe Hermione lied to us about this. She looked directly in my face and... and...okay, she said she couldn't promise that she would only stay friends with Malfoy...but she never said she was already in a relationship with him! She never... she never... I love her, Harry. What am I going to do without her? I thought we would be great together... She led me on! I thought we had something at the end of sixth year. I really thought we did... But all she wants is Malfoy of all people. How could she like that git? I saw the way they were looking at each other... I really think his feelings for her are genuine. Otherwise, I think he'd have a heart attack being around so many Gryffindors, blood traitors, Muggle-borns, and half-bloods. I...I...

I can't even think about this right now. I'm getting a headache. I'm sure I'll die.

How could something like this happen?

Ron

Dear Ronald Weasley,

My name is Claire Rivage. I don't know if you remember me; we met briefly at my cousin's and your brother's wedding. I was one of Fleur's bridesmaids. Remember, I was the one that you spat ginger ale all over when I introduced myself? Then you ran off into the crowd?

The curriculum at Beauxbatons is strictly French. I don't usually get the chance to practice my English. So I hope you won't mind that I am dictating this letter to a quill.

I am writing (sort of) to inform you that your mother has graciously allowed me to stay with your family so that I may improve my English more and see my favorite cousin. Did I not mention that we are the same age? I will be starting school at Hogwarts in the beginning of next week. Your mother and I have spoken with the headmaster and everything has been arranged. When I was told that the Weasley's had a son my age—not to mention the best friend of Harry Potter!—I must say, I became excited! I had not realized at the wedding that all three of us were the same age. I cannot wait to meet both of you! Well, at least, get to know you more since we have met before.

Oh, Mademoiselle Weasley has just asked me to tell you that when I arrive at Hogwarts on Monday, that you will show me around the castle and make me feel welcome or you will not come home for Christmas, Easter, or summer holidays.

Well, again, I cannot wait to meet you, so until then,

Yours truly,

Claire Rivage

* * *

Dear Hermione,

Sweetie, you know we are always worried about you. Your father and I... we're always wondering if we've done the right thing with you. Don't take that badly, I meant we wondered if there wasn't something else we could do to help you when you were throwing up blood. I don't agree with the decision that psychiatrist made. You need to be healed, not to bury your anger and sadness. I can't help but wonder if that whole throwing up blood thing isn't from a curse or something. Maybe something you were hit with when you were fighting people at that Ministry building in your fifth year. I really don't think you have ulcers in your stomach. Old people like your father get ulcers; not beautiful, young, eighteen-year-olds.

But really, now onto what every mother dreams about and what every father fears:

You're in love.

I don't want to be negative for you because all I want is for you to be happy, and if this boy makes you happy... My only concern is, you're eighteen years old and this seems to have happened really fast. You're only in your second month of school. And it isn't Ron? I always thought... Okay forget that. And if this boy makes you happy, I don't know why he would make us worry... or make us want to kill him...

Oh, wait, your father does apparently: "because everyone knows that boys are cheats and liars and that all they want is to get into girls' pants, and if you really like this boy too, you'll probably eventually dance the horizontal mambo anyway." His words, not mine. Good luck to you trying to decipher some of that. I know I'm not going to explain it.

So... what is he like? If you're not going to give a name, you could at least describe him. And you know, if you really love this boy, and if he feels the same way about you, your father and I are going to have to meet him some time. Not right now, obviously, but if/when you become more serious.

Just be careful, Hermione. You're young and if something doesn't work out, there will always be other boys. I wish I could talk to you face to face. There are just too many things I want to say but it's hard to put it all in a letter. Especially with your father breathing down my neck.

If you have any questions, please feel free to ask. That's what I am here for, even if Dad is completely useless.

Haha. He stalked off.

Talk to you later, sweetheart. We both really miss you. It's so hard not being able to see you until Christmas (sometimes not even then), but we always manage.

Love,

Mum (and Dad, I suppose.)

Ginny,

Do you really think I was going to tell you more about what was going on with me and Draco after that stunt you pulled last Saturday? Hmmm? I learn from my mistakes and my mistake had been giving you information that you could blackmail me with. That was NOT going to happen again. Who knows, instead of blackmailing me, you might have gone straight to the student body with that information.

Okay, really there was nothing going on between Draco and me until Friday. Well, okay, there was an attraction, and yeah, we sort of started making out almost every time we were alone... but until Friday, we hadn't made anything official. Friday, when Draco and I were pardoned from classes, (I'm not going to tell you why. I'll just say it has something to do with his family and he doesn't want anyone to know, otherwise, the Daily Prophet would have posted something about it) we had a sort of argument. But when we got back to our common room, we sort of made up and decided we wanted to be together. Then I told him that if he wanted other people to know, I would leave it to him to tell people or not.

Does it all sound cliché? Yes, probably. But I don't care what you think, and I don't care what anyone else thinks. Except Draco. I care what he thinks. ;)

I really appreciate your support, you know. You don't have to get all friendly with Draco since he probably won't get friendly with you, but the fact that you're not going to hate me like Ron, means a lot to me. I'm glad you're going to try to be civil. I'm going to talk to Draco too. If you are going to try, he has to try, and if he likes me at all, he will.

I can't help but feel guilty about Pansy. I know I shouldn't after everything she's done to me for six years. But if there is anything I've learned through all of this with Draco, it's that Slytherins are people too. Maybe except for Snape... I haven't decided yet. They're engaged, too. Draco and Pansy, I mean. And even though he doesn't like her, she likes him. Draco doesn't know that I know he's betrothed. I'm afraid he'll be mad that I was listening in on his conversation. What am I going to do, Ginny? Is he going to pick familial duty over love? Not that I know whether he loves me or not, and graduation is months away.

It does feel really soon, but I do love him, Ginny. I love him more that the world. I don't know how this happened, either. I've been attracted to him for a while (sometime before summer holidays) but I hated him. How could something like this happen? I'm still so confused even though now my mind is crystal clear. Does that make any sense? But I guess love doesn't make sense. And no, I haven't told him that I love him. I don't want to scare him away. It is really soon.

I hope you're right and that Ron comes around. We've fought before. Our worst fights being over the Firebolt and Crookshanks in third year, and Victor Krum in fourth. I guess you could also include how mad I was when he was snogging Lavender everywhere last year, but my feelings have changed now. Anyways. I'm not going to wait for him forever. If he doesn't want to be friends with me just because of this, then so be it!

But I miss him, you know. He's one of my best friends.

Hermione

P.S: Draco is a wonderful kisser. :)

Harry, Darling!

Where would you get the horrible idea that I know/knew something you didn't about our Hermione and didn't tell you?

Okay, you caught me. Last Saturday, when Hermione invited me to her room to sleep over, she wanted to talk about Malfoy. She was confused about her feelings. She had no idea why she liked him when she had always hated him, and she felt guilty because he was supposed to be our enemy. She had a few questions, is all. Before that, I had no idea she had a crush on Malfoy. I thought she liked Cormac McLaggen. Don't ask me why, that was just the picture I got from the way she was talking.

I have no idea what happened between Hermione and Malfoy that he stopped calling her horrible names. But can't you tell how much he's changed? He's stopped calling her names—hell, he's stopped calling us names!—and he's gentle with her. Don't you see the way he treats her? Like something delicate and beautiful that he wouldn't want to lose? Doesn't it all seem romantic, sort of? And now I've just had an epiphany...

What if Malfoy has never changed? What if the way he acts now—with Hermione, at least—is the way he always is, and his greasy git, stupid prat persona is all a façade? God, this has just opened up a whole new can of worms... It's just so weird!

And another thing... have you noticed that Hermione hasn't been exploding at people in a while? A result of Malfoy's wickedly devious charm? I think so.

Don't be stupid, Harry. Ron will get over this. As soon as another pretty face comes along, he'll forget all about Hermione. Well, not forget about her but forget that he "loves" her... Oh, you know what I mean! Ron isn't mature enough to fall in love. He just doesn't have the brain capacity. He's being a prat and he'll get over it.

I guess I will send this off as well. No point in writing anymore when I'm just going to see you tonight...And please, don't ruin our romantic evening with complaints about Hermione and Malfoy. They are both happy. We don't need to worry about them.

Love,

Snookyboogums

(a.k.a. Ginny)

Ron—

You won't die and you will get over Hermione. I'm totally on your side about this. Hermione has no business being with Malfoy. It's just seems a bit fishy to me...

Ginny has this crazy idea that Malfoy has been using his stupid git personality as a façade and the side we see at dinner now, the side he shows Hermione, is his real self. I don't know what she's been drinking but if it will cheer you up, I'll get some for you.

All I want are my two best friends back. You've been separating yourself from Hermione so if I'm with her, you're not there. And Hermione spends all her time with Malfoy. Before all of this...stuff happened, we were able to do stuff together AND I had Ginny. This...whatever it is, is just weird.

The weirdest part is, though, I think Malfoy's feelings for Hermione are genuine too. Why would he go through all of the trouble otherwise?

I have to go. Ginny and I have a date.

Harry

(Merlin, I just realized how insensitive that sounded. Sorry...)

Dear Claire Rivage,

Um, you can tell my mum that I'll be real gentlemanly. She won't have to worry. And neither will you! You'll be in safe hands at Hogwarts, I can tell you that. There is no better wizard than Professor Dumbledore and you're safest where ever he is, usually. I wish I could say that about Ron Weasley but I can't, you know.

I do remember you from Bill and Fleur's wedding...and that little incident. I know I apologized a thousand times but even a thousand times more would never make up for, um, getting ginger ale all over your lovely body—er—dress. I'm so sorry again. I can't tell you how much embarrassment that all caused me.

I guess I don't have much else to say. I'll see you on Monday. I can't wait to see you again and I do hope we can get to know each other better.

Until then,

Ron Weasley

P.S. I'd be honored if you would allow me to escort you around the school. Unless you already had an escort? Oh, never mind...

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**(A/N): Okay, all. I know that wasn't much. Oh well. Next chapter: The reactions of the school to "the relationship", Ron and Herms make up, Miss Rivage begins school, and—well, you'll just have to see, won't you?**


	23. The Calm Before the Storm

**(A/N): Thank you SOOOOO much to **princessgrl, jc 2021, Chrissy92, Sarah Burla, Jaejae, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, SexyDraco04, the singer, angelpixii, FallenMadness88, **and** Lauressa **for your reviews!**

**angelpixii: Yeah, that was just an extra bit of amusement. If you'd like, you can pretend Pansy was at the lake, snogging the giant squid, or serving detention for being absolutely useless to everyone she comes in contact with... :) The possibilities are endless... Thank you for your review by the way!**

**flip chick: Your favorite author:Grabs heart and staggers backward: No way! Thank you so much, how flattering!**

**Tabitha: Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love new readers and I am so glad you love my story! I first heard about Selena when I was seven or eight and my dad rented the movie. He's Mexican and he had her CD, Amor Prohibido. I'm trying to learn Spanish and I remembered he had her CD and I finally decided to listen to it. I totally fell in love with her! I want all of her CD's and I got the movie for Christmas. I hate that she had to die so young when she was a wonderful singer and she had so much to offer the world. It makes me want to cry thinking about it sometimes, especially when I am listening to her music. As for what state I live in, I don't. I live in Italy. And that's all I'm going to say! Internet security and all.

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**The Calm Before the Storm:**

Since that Friday when they made their relationship official and public, Hermione and Draco had been inseparable. They walked to breakfast, lunch, and dinner together but sat at their own tables, deciding that they had given the school enough of a shock when Draco had dined with the Gryffindors. They walked to class together hand-in-hand if they had the same class and usually sat beside each other. The people that they passed in the halls stared at them as they walked by. The couple couldn't get enough of each other and everyone could see it. The Slytherins wanted to wash their hands of Draco and the Gryffindors were wary of taking him in. Out of everyone, Pansy Parkinson and Ron Weasley seemed to take the news the worst and despite everything in the past, Blaise Zabini supported Draco and stayed by his side. He even began trying to befriend Hermione, who, at the request of her boyfriend, also tried to be friendly towards the Slytherin.

The Sunday after their coming out, Pansy cornered Hermione while she was on her own heading to Arithmancy.

She was sniffling but as soon as she saw Hermione, she wiped her eyes and nose and straightened her shoulders. Poking Hermione on the shoulder, she said, "You know, Draco would never date a little Mudblood like you." Her voice was derisive and hateful. She flipped her short black hair and continued. "He's engaged to _me_, I don't know why you think you could have him. He's too good for you and after graduation, he'll be _mine_." She sneered in the Head Girl's face and crossed her arms.

"I know he's engaged to you, Parkinson," Hermione started heatedly. "And I have to envy you for that. Right now, I'm happy just being with him but at the end of the day, I know he'll be marrying _you_. It breaks my heart every time I think about it." Pansy could hear the sadness in Hermione's voice at that. Holding her Arithmancy book carefully to her chest, Hermione's voice became heated again. "What a waste of engagement."

Hermione stalked off down the corridor, leaving a stunned and unsure Pansy behind. So many thoughts filled her head. Mainly things she should have said.

_Draco hates you, he doesn't want to marry you._

_You're pathetic, Parkinson, get lost._

_What are you talking about? Draco loves _me_, and he'll find a way to get out of your stupid engagement._

But no matter how much contempt Pansy showed her, Hermione could not bring herself to show the same in return.

And she knew that Draco didn't love her.

In potions class, Hermione and Draco continued to work together on their potion project. Snape seemed to take the whole relationship the second worst of everyone in the school. He ignored Hermione as much as he could and only spoke to Draco in class. Mainly, he was just confused as to how Draco could change his principles so quickly. That question was on everyone's mind and no one knew how to ask it or answer it. There were some nasty rumors circulating the school that Snape was actually jealous of Draco—or was it Hermione?—but of course those were just ridiculous.

On Wednesday, Hermione and Draco sat in the library studying together. Ron ran up to the table (to Draco's annoyance) clutching a letter in his hand

"Hermione, can we talk?" he whispered in the Head Girl's ear.

Hermione nodded and closed her book. Standing from the table, she said, "I'll be right back, Draco." He nodded and kissed her softly on the lips when she leaned down for it, then glanced at Ron to make sure he had seen. He had. He looked slightly uncomfortable witnessing such intimacies from the Slytherin Prince and Hermione. The kiss clearly told Ron, _She's mine, you can't have her, _but Draco didn't have to worry.

Standing a distance away from the table, Ron said to Hermione, "Look, I'm sorry about the way I've been acting. I've been a real git to you for almost a week now. You don't deserve to be treated that way and I'm sorry." Hermione tried to keep a serious expression on her face but wanted to laugh so much. She cracked a smile and laid one hand on Ron's arm.

"Ginny told you to say that, didn't she?" she asked, leaning in a bit as if she were telling a secret.

Startled into answering truthfully, Ron said, "Yeah," in a sheepish voice and rubbed the back of his neck. "But I really am sorry. She didn't make me say it she just helped me with the words."

Hermione reached up to wrap her arms around Ron's neck and hugged him.

"I accept your apology and will appreciate it if you try to be civil. Draco is trying, you know." The ginger-haired boy made a face over Hermione's shoulder that said, _Yeah, right_, and which she didn't notice.

Releasing her from his grip, he finally let go of Hermione, physically and emotionally. "I'll try. He _does_ seem like a sort of different person. I'm definitely not going to let _him_ be the better man."

The Head Girl rolled her eyes and ruffled Ron's fiery hair—a hard task with his height. "Thanks, Ron." Then she noticed the letter in his hand. "What's that?"

Stuffing the missive in an inside pocket of his robes, he said, "Uh—nothing! It's just a letter..." His voice sounded as if he wasn't through with his sentence but he stopped talking.

"Oh?" Hermione said. "From whom?"

"Um—uh—my mum?"

Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave Ron a shrewd look. "Are you sure it's not from some—um—foreign exchange student?" she asked, looking oh-so superior at her knowledge.

"H-how would _you_ know that?" the amazed boy asked.

"Because as Head Girl—and Draco as Head Boy—Dumbledore has asked us to accompany him in showing this Claire Rivage around the school..."

Before she had finished speaking, Ron had fallen to his knees and clasped his hands together in front of Hermione.

"Please, please, please! Can I go with you? I could be like a representative from Gryffindor—oh, wait, that's you—or a representative of the Gryffindor Prefects! Please, Hermione, can I go?"

People were starting to give them strange looks and Ron wasn't really trying to be quiet anymore. Grabbing his hands, Hermione pulled Ron up until he was standing again.

"I can ask the Headmaster but I can't guarantee you can join us. He might let you since Claire will be staying with your family out of school so I'll see."

Ron pulled Hermione to his body for a body crushing hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best, Herms!"

As he bounced away, she called, "You're welcome and don't call me Herms!"

She sighed. _Boys will be boys._ _Jumping up and down in excitement just to see a pretty, foreign girl._

By this time, Madam Pince had appeared on the scene and didn't look too happy about all the noise.

"I'm sorry! I'll be quiet from now on!" Glaring at her like a vulture, the librarian allowed the Head Girl to go back to her table with Draco.

"What did _he_ want?" Draco asked as soon as she sat down.

Hermione sighed again. "Claire Rivage." The Head Boy nodded but still looked wary.

"I saw him hugging you."

"I told him I'd see if Dumbledore would let him come along with us on Monday when we show her around."

Draco nodded again and finally looked content. He turned back to his text book and concentrated on his homework, becoming genial again.

Hermione noticed his change of mood. "Not jealous, are you?" she asked, looking at him slyly, smiling teasingly.

Draco looked up at her and around at the other people in the library. Pointing to his heart, he said, "Me? Jealous? Absolutely not." Grabbing Hermione's waist and pulling her off of her chair into his lap, he whispered into her ear, "Malfoys never get jealous."

He made to kiss her on the lips but she diverted her face, planting a kiss on his cheek. Her mouth was turned up into a smile that had to be too big for her face as she climbed off of Draco's lap and back into her chair.

_Oh, yes, _Hermione thought. _Boys will be boys. Too jealous for their own good, and too proud to admit it.

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_

Monday came again and with it came the end of the rain. Finally, it was Quidditch weather again. The lake sparkled in the sunlight, and the grass rippled in the wind. Waking up on that spectacular morning brought smiles to even the most sour of faces, lifted the most downtrodden of spirits, and brightened the most foul of moods. This new day was an adventure for all and everyone was excited to see the sun again for the first time in two weeks.

Three people woke up with illuminating smiles lighting their sleepy faces and got ready for this new day with enthusiasm. All of them for the same reason: the prospect of love. Well, Ron Weasley's mind wasn't really on love. More like a new, beautiful, French girl that would be starting school today. Hermione and Draco's minds were almost a complete parallel to each others and that was the prospect of starting a new day in the other's company.

They were hopelessly in love and oblivious to each other's feelings.

Some would say (and some did) that they were just hopeless.

The Head Boy and Girl headed down to breakfast together and this time when Ron came in the Great Hall, he sat beside Hermione and across from Harry and Ginny.

Ginny arched an eyebrow in question leading Ron to say, "What? We made up."

"Oh good," she said with a sigh of relief, digging into her English muffin with relish, "I thought you might have screwed up the apology too."

She ignored the indignant splutter from her brother but laughed when his orange juice fell out of his mouth.

"You have to admit, brother dearest," she continued without sympathy, "you do have a tendency to ruin perfectly good friendships with people or dates with girls."

She was referring to the ruined date to the Yule Ball. Ron had spent the entire dance sulking and watching angrily as Hermione danced dance after dance with Viktor Krum, international Quidditch star. How could he have competed with that? But the way he took it—or at least, what the remark reminded him of—was his failed attempt to "woo" Hermione. When his face tensed with a false smile, Hermione giggled nervously and glared at Ginny with such intensity that she should have burst into flame.

But she didn't and instead said, "What? It's true. Padma Patil had a horrible time with him at the Yule Ball and he had no tact when it came to you. He's going to die a lonely, old geezer who no one wanted to date or marry. Let's just say he's useless and get on with it." The youngest Weasley child chewed on her bagel thoughtfully. Hermione slapped her forehead and clamped her eyes shut (_No tact? Now who had no tact?_), imagining that Ginny was dreaming of a future where her brother was old and friendless.

Ron's face hadn't relaxed at all, meanwhile. Harry leaned into Ginny and whispered, "Don't you think that's being a bit harsh?"

Ginny shrugged. Stuffing the rest of her bagel into her mouth, she looked at her watch and jumped. "Oh, bugger! I was supposed to meet Egnaro Eciuj before class! Got to go!" She was gone before anyone could say anything else.

Ron finally seemed to relax as his sister ran away. "Who's Egnaro whatsit?" he asked in a confused whisper.

"Dunno," Harry said with a shrug, watching the doors to the entrance hall bang closed. "Never heard of him—or—er—her."

"It's nobody," Hermione said with a small intuitive smile. "It's orange juice spelled backwards," she continued, turning the carton of orange juice to where Ron could see it.

"So it is..." Ron said with an air of dawning comprehension.

"Let me see that!" Harry grabbed the carton from Ron and looked at it carefully. "Why would she do that?"

Looking behind her shoulder at the door again, Hermione answered, "It seems as if she isn't completely heartless when it comes to her brother after all."

"You think?" Ron asked with a slightly surprised expression. "Awwwwww... She does care!" he teased.

Harry and Hermione laughed. They all felt like they'd reached complete normalcy again. They felt as if things had gone back to the way they were before all this business with Draco and the diary began. Of course, Harry and Ron still didn't know about the reason behind Hermione's diary but they knew that since she started writing in it, things had gone bad. They'd felt too afraid to talk to her mostly, in case she did blow up in anger. It was a real damper on happy times and good moods. Harry had the feeling that it wasn't her fault she acted the way she did, though, but until she told them what the problem was, Harry and Ron thought her a bit mental. And now that she was so extremely happy, Harry was afraid that she wouldn't want to even speak of the diary for a second. She might get angry just mentioning it and no one wanted that.

He also had the sneaking suspicion that the "secret" she told Malfoy the day they made their truce was the same one she had refused to tell Harry, Ron and Ginny that day in the Leaky Cauldron Inn. And if Malfoy knew the total extent of her haywire emotions, Harry was also afraid that he would be furious with them if he or Ron started up those haywire emotions again. Protectiveness over his girlfriend's well-being, you know.

"So..." Ron began, trying to ease into another conversation without irking Hermione. "Have you asked Dumbledore, yet?"

Harry looked confused for a second even though he knew the question wasn't aimed at him.

"What is she supposed to ask Dumbledore?" he asked aloud. Ron immediately tried to cover his motive; what would his best friend think if his mind was on another girl so soon?

"Nothing! She wasn't supposed to ask him nothing. Right, Hermione? You didn't ask anyone anything."

Hermione rolled her eyes but answered anyway.

"Oh, well, if you didn't want me to ask, I guess you don't want to know what he said," she taunted casually.

"What? You _did_ ask him!"

Harry waited patiently to see how Hermione would respond.

"Yes, I asked him and he said that you can come along with us."

Ron burst out with another blinding grin.

"Go along where?" Harry asked.

Before Ron could interject again Hermione answered, "We're hosting an exchange student from Beauxbatons and Dumbledore wanted the Head Boy and Girl to walk around with them as he showed her around. Ron wanted to go too." Ron gave Hermione an evil glare but she conveniently looked away and ignored him. The next she spoke so fast, the two boys could barely understand her. "Long-story-short: ask-Ron. Okay-I-love-you-buh-bye!" With that, she grabbed her bag and rushed off to join Draco for their first class of the day before Ron could kill her.

After lunch, while Hermione was in Arithmancy, Dumbledore sent a student for her. A nervous looking third year boy (Hermione couldn't remember what house he was in) handed a note to Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher, and exited the classroom again.

As agreed at an earlier meeting, Hermione headed down to Hogwarts's front door where she, Ron, Draco, and the Headmaster would wait for Claire Rivage's carriage to arrive. Dumbledore and Draco were already there. Smiling, she took her place by Draco. He gave her a small smile back and reached for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. This action surprised her mainly because she didn't think he would show such affectionate actions in front of a teacher—or better yet, the one teacher that had meant for a relationship to happen in the first place. Her smile grew a little brighter as she stared down Hogwarts's dirt road and thought she saw a small dot coming forward in the distance.

Looking around anxiously, she noticed that Ron had still not arrived. With a bit of annoyance she looked towards Draco—he was smirking of course.

_He had better show up! _she thought. _After I had to get him permission to come._

The carriage made its way up the road and no more than thirty seconds later, was pulling up in the circular drive-around to release its passenger. At that second, Ron shoved the great oak doors open and rushed down to stand by Dumbledore. His face was flushed as if he had to run from one end of the castle to the other and looking at his windswept hair and wrinkled robes, he probably had. Smiling tentatively at Hermione—who merely arched an eyebrow—he straightened his robes and looked forward as the thestral pulled carriage came to a stop.

Draco and Hermione released hands as Dumbledore stepped forward to open the door for the waiting girl inside. One slim, pale leg descended from the step, clad in a foggy-silver, heeled shoe. Claire Rivage clasped the Headmaster's hand and stepped away from the carriage, leaning up to kiss the air by both of the tall man's wrinkled cheeks.

"'Eadmaster Dumbledore," she greeted with a brilliantly shining smile that matched her brilliantly shining platinum hair and her brilliantly shining foggy-silver colored satin robes. Hermione couldn't help but feel extraordinarily ordinary in comparison, but managed to keep a welcoming smile on her face. Draco squeezed her hand comfortingly which made her feel worlds better._ She_ had Draco Malfoy, probably one of the hardest guys to get if you're not Pureblood or a Slytherin. He was something Claire Rivage could never have.

She hoped.

"Miss Rivage, a pleasure to have you here, my dear," Dumbledore grinned. She curtsied in reply, most gracefully. Hermione was struck with a wave of jealousy. Had she tried to curtsy, her lack of balance would have had her falling flat on her face. The plastered smile stayed in place almost painfully.

As if sensing her jealousy, Draco leaned in just a bit and whispered in her ear, "_You_ are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen." Casting a sideways glance at him, Hermione wondered if he were merely joking. He had never said anything so open—expressing exactly what he was feeling—before unless he had been joking. This instance couldn't be any different; Draco Malfoy just _didn't _(or never had) complimented anyone willingly before. He must be placating her, she thought.

But as if sensing this thought as well, Draco stepped forward and took Claire's hand in his, bowed, and kissed the top. Hermione had to close her eyes and count to three to keep from attacking immediately.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, the Head Boy," he told Claire professionally. There was no sound of teasing and no smirk on his mouth. He was merely a boy uninterested in this French girl and merely introducing himself. She did her blasted perfect curtsy again and smiled her dazzling smile—just _pouring_ on her Veela charm.

"Eet's a pleasure to meet you," she replied in a throaty voice caused by her strong French accent.

_Why can't I have an exotic accent?_ Hermione wondered to herself enviously.

Unaffected by the heavy, magical lure of Claire's Veela blood, Draco stepped backwards to Hermione's side again. She tried to appear as if the kiss on another girl's hand had meant nothing, but knew she had failed miserably. Too embarrassed of letting Draco see her jealousy (she was also quite afraid that if he knew she was jealous, he would feel controlled, confined, or tied down. Would he leave her then?), she tried to fix her face and smile politely again as she walked forward and introduced herself as well.

Then Claire's eyes landed on Ron standing a couple feet beside Draco.

"Ronald!" she cried excitedly, rushing forward with arms outstretched and walking up the steps. The heels of her shoes clicked annoyingly on the stone with every step she took. The sound seemed to echo throughout Hermione's head.

"Eet's so good to see you again!" Placing her hands on his thin shoulders, she reached up and actually kissed each of his pale freckled cheeks instead of the air beside them.

"Uh—you too!" Ron replied, flustered and blushing.

"You 'ave grown even taller since the wedding, or am I eemagining eet?" she continued to say, ruffling his fiery red hair teasingly. The action surprised Hermione—and, it seemed, Ron. She hadn't expected the French girl to act so familiar with Ron when she had only met him once.

"Well, since we are all acquainted now, shall we begin our tour?" Dumbledore asked brightly, gesturing towards the large oak doors that led into Hogwart's medieval splendor. Claire immediately hooked her arm around Ron's. He seemed surprised by her forwardness and had a dazed look on his face as if he couldn't believe his good fortune in having such a young woman on his arm.

The Headmaster and the four students entered the castle while Dumbledore gave Miss Rivage the basic history of the school. Four friends founded Hogwarts and named a house after themselves. Each house would take in students with the characteristics that each founder valued most. Godric Gryffinfor valued bravery; Rowena Ravenclaw valued knowledge; Salazar Slytherin valued ambition; and Helga Hufflepuff valued loyalty. After arguing about which kinds of students should be taught—Slytherin only wanted students whose blood was pure while everyone else thought every child should get the education they deserved—Slytherin left the school and since then, the houses had never been united again.

"So, what eez thees?" Claire asked, pointing to the large hourglass type things standing on both sides of the main entrance.

"These are the point counters for each of the Houses," Dumbledore began to explain. "Teachers, Head students, and Prefects are allowed to take away points from houses where they see fit and the teachers are allowed to give points as well. At the end of the year, the house with the highest number of points wins the House Cup. But I must say, we haven't really been following points for the last three years. What with all that had been happening revolved around a certain now-deceased, evil wizard..." His eyes twinkled merrily with a bit of teasing but Hermione and Ron could see the sadness in them as well. The last three years had not been the wizarding world's happiest time at all.

Recovering from the slightly awkward moment, Ron said, "Yeah and Gryffindor and Slytherin are the worst enemies. No one really likes Slytherin but our houses hate each other most of all."

Dumbledore didn't seem too happy to have Ron telling their new student this information. He would have preferred if she had come into the school with an open mind and let her make her own decisions about which people to like or not to like.

"Your 'ouses?" she asked Ron in confusion.

"Yeah, Hermione and I are from Gryffindor but Malfoy is from Slytherin. These two are like... the exception to the rule or something," he replied, pointing to the students in question and rolling his eyes.

"'Ow so?" Claire questioned some more.

Hermione steadily began to blush while Draco just smirked. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her over to the hourglasses to examine the points. Mainly, he was just giving Hermione something to do so she wouldn't feel weird with Ron and Claire talking about them.

"Oh, well, Malfoy, Harry, Hermione and I have been the worst enemies since the first train ride in our first year. We have always hated each other, but for some reason, this year, he and Hermione are inseparable! You can't go anywhere without seeing one attached to the other! I don't know what happened but they just don't hate each other anymore and everyone is completely baffled."

Before Claire could ask another question, Dumbledore said, "Yes, well, come along! We still have the rest of the castle to visit!"

The tour lasted the rest of the day. The five people roamed the entire castle from top to bottom, showing Claire where her classes were, where her teacher's offices were, the bathrooms, and convenient shortcuts. They told her about the areas of the castle to be avoided, Peeves the Poltergeist, the way staircases and rooms like to change and move around, and tricks of the corridors and steps. Finally ending the tour, the group stopped back at Dumbledore's office and sat in four conjured chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk. All of their feet hurt and they were all exhausted. Dumbledore was the only one who still seemed in a chipper mood.

"It might help to get more comfortable shoes," Hermione told Claire who was rubbing her ankle.

"Thank you," she replied kindly, "I 'ave realized thees." She then went on to transfigure her shoes to foggy-silver colored slippers instead.

Hermione felt she might have come on too harsh. She didn't want to act horrible to this girl just because she was prettier than herself! She hoped no one would notice her jealousy or see how her tone sounded slightly biting. And it didn't matter whether or not she sounded biting because Claire remained cheery and kind. She seemed to be the better person, and the Head Girl could only feel shame at her tone and jealousy.

"There is only one last order of business before you may go to dinner," the Headmaster said to the tired and listening group. His hands were steepled under his chin and his eyes began to sparkle. Standing from his chair, he walked towards a nearby shelf and pulled down the Sorting Hat. He laid the dirty old hat on his desk as he sat down again and pulled his glasses off, wiping the lenses with his robes before returning them to his face.

"If you would, put this on," he said, handing the hat to Claire. Ron, Hermione, and Draco watched curiously, wondering what Claire would do. If she were anything like her cousin, Fluer, was at her age, she would refuse to put the dirty article on her head.

But surprising them all, she did put the hat on. Her body was so slight that it nearly covered her eyes.

"I haven't even sung my song yet," the hat grumbled humorously.

"The circumstances in this case are a bit unusual, but you may continue without the song," Dumbledore replied, smiling. He did look like an old codger talking to a hat. But this was Hogwarts and such things as talking to hats, mirrors or even doors were not unexpected.

Only a few moments later, the rip at the brim of the hat opened and it spoke in a loud, clear voice, "RAVENCLAW!"

Hermione looked to Ron and saw his face fall distinctly before he smiled supportively at Claire. She took the hat off and handed it back to the Headmaster, unsure of what to say or how to feel now.

"Well," Dumbledore began brightly, clapping his hands together, "that's settled! Let's make our way to the Great Hall. I, myself, am starving!" Everyone agreed and stood from their chairs. As they left the office, Dumbledore replaced the hat to its proper place and put one hand on Claire's shoulder.

"Where am I supposed to be sleeping?" she asked him. She still held onto Ron's arm as if she would drift away if she let go.

"I'm sure one of your new housemates will show you where it is. Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, or Mr. Weasley will show you where you will eat." Claire nodded once in understanding and smiled up at Ron. All he could do was smile back.

As they entered the Great Hall, all the students present began to whisper and point at the new student. Draco left Hermione with a meaningful look as he sat at his table and as they were about to pass the Ravenclaw table, she stopped.

"This is where the Ravenclaws sit," she said as she turned to Claire. "I hope I didn't seem too harsh earlier..." she said. Her voice trailed off, too embarrassed to mention that she had been jealous of her.

"No, no. Eet eez all right. I 'ope that we can become friends, maybe?" the French girl replied.

Surprised, Hermione nodded in agreement. "Yeah, sure! I'd like that." She smiled and turned towards the Gryffindor table, sitting across from Harry, as usual. A moment later, Ron sat down.

"So..." Harry began, "she seems nice."

"Yeah, she is," both Hermione and Ron said at the same time, though Ron's voice sounded more dreamy than Hermione's factual tone. As the two stared at each other in surprise, Harry burst out laughing.

"What I mean is," Hermione began to explain, "that I was acting maybe a bit rude and she didn't hold it against me."

"Why would you be acting rude in the first place?" Ron asked. He looked as if he had no idea why anyone would dare be horrible to Claire Rivage.

Blushing, Hermione stammered out, "Oh, well... you see...I might have been...a bit jealous of her..." Her two best friends both arched an eyebrow, signaling for her to continue. "I just didn't feel as special... I mean... Draco was standing there and this girl is exceptionally pretty and graceful and... _pleasant_ that I... _fleetingly_ wondered if Draco might want something more than me." She kept her head bowed in embarrassment for her confession as Ron patted her on her back.

"Don't be ridiculous, Herms,"—she glared at Ron for using his nickname for her—"If Malfoy dumped you for another girl, then he isn't worth the spit on the ground."

Hermione buried her head in her arms on the tabletop and with a muffled voice said, "Oh, thanks, Ronald. That would definitely heal my broken heart." Her tone was biting and sarcastic and she immediately regretted her ire. Before she could stop herself, she was speaking again, "By the way, did you know that Claire is your _cousin by marriage_?"

She left the table to reflect on her emotions and, of course, to write in her diary. Ron cupped his hands around his mouth and called, "Oh, yeah? Well... I knew that! And... I don't care!"

Harry watched Ron stare at his food distastefully after that, thinking about any relationship he might have wanted with his new cousin, and the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't help himself... he busted out laughing again. How do they get themselves into these kinds of messes?

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**(A/N): Okay, lovely readers, I just want to say that this will be one of the last peaceful chapters until the end of the story. Actually, I think next chapter will be the last... What I'm trying to say is that things are going to start getting tense and the reason I put this story in the "Drama" category will be revealed in a few chapters time. Hence the title of this chapter. I think in about five or six chapters, most of you are going to hate me. Oh, well. It's my story and the plot was decided when I wrote up the first chapter. I want to thank all of you again for your wonderful patience and I hope you will continue to hang in there with me. I don't think you will regret it in the long run. So, as always, I will see you in the next chapter! Oh, and if you recognize something and I haven't given credit to wherever it came from, I apologize. I mean to add my credits in my Author's Notes but I have a horrble memory. Especially when I have to remind myself to do something. :P And again, I cannot promise a speedy update but I will try!**


	24. As Things Start to Break Down

**(A/N): Thank you to** luchille, morning-flower, SexyDraco04, Tabitha, Jaejae, princessgrl, **and **MIDNIGHT-PIXIE **for all of their reviews!**

**Feltonsgirl90210: :Sigh: If Draco Malfoy were a real person and he was copywritten to me, then I'd be too busy hogging him to give him up. I wish he was mine to give but unfortunately, he isn't. And anyways, if I could own anyone in the entire Potterverse, I would want Severus Snape… :P He'd be fun to try to make fall in love with me… :Smile's brightly: Thank you for the enthusiastic reviews!**

**mzchinagirl: Um, thanks for your review! I'd just like to say that everyone will have to wait and see what will happen in those five or six chapters. There are a hundred possibilities of why my readers will hate me then. Maybe a character will die... Maybe wandering and alive Lucius will do something unforgivable… Who knows (besides me?)? And you don't have to tell me if you change your name. On my reviews page, it automatically changes. Not that I don't like hearing from you, you know… Pero muchas gracias, mi amiga buena!**

**the singer: Yes, I noticed that the diary was losing its spotlight when it is the main focus of the entire story. Its main job is over (uniting Draco and Herms) and that's why I've sort of forgotten about it but it will have a pretty big scene to itself in the near future. The Prefects docking points thing... On Mugglenet dot com, there is this section where they list information that wasn't in the books that J.K said was true, and it said that Ron was wrong in the fifth book when he said Prefects couldn't take points. They can. Maybe I should double check that. And yeah, I have a nickname for being short too. There's this one guy who calls me "shorty" and asks me "how the weather is down there". I find that I add a lot of myself into Hermione. I am definitely the jealous type. And I like to be overdramatic but I usually don't act that way so I put that into Hermione. Thanks so much for your review, and as always, I love to get long ones! They make me feel special... :P**

**Disclaimer: All settings, characters, and terminology that you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm only using them for my own fun.

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**As Things Start to Break Down:**

Claire Rivage grew on everyone she met. Only the Slytherins could find something horrible to say about her and that was only because of the company she liked to spend her time with—_but _they never taunted her to her face. Her teachers loved her polite intelligence. Even though Beaxbatons's curriculum was ahead of Hogwarts's, Claire was patient with her teachers and willing to review until they caught up to where she was. She spent her time with Ron when she was out of class, which usually meant she spent time with Harry and Ginny and sometimes Hermione and Draco. Hermione still felt outshined by Claire but she was able to push her envy aside to start a friendship with the French girl. Altogether, Claire had a very different attitude than her cousin had at the same age.

And Hermione realized that Draco really didn't want anyone else. He laughed politely at Claire's jokes, asked her about school life at Beaxbatons, and would start a discussion between himself, Claire, and Hermione, but after dinner when the Head Boy and Girl were alone in the Head common room, it was Hermione that he read and talked with and Hermione that he was kissing and Hermione that he fell asleep beside on the sofa. Not that Claire Rivage was interested in Draco anyway. It seemed as if she didn't care that she and Ron were now cousins—even if it was by marriage—either. She and Ron didn't concern themselves over what people would say about their relationship because no one really knew that they were related at all.

Since Claire had come to school, Hermione and Draco's relationship became old news—which suited them both fine. Now the talk was about what such a beautiful, smart, foreign girl saw in the youngest Weasley son. It was the Slytherins' favorite taunt when they saw Ron alone but it didn't anger him so much because the beautiful, smart, foreign girl _was_ with him. Unlike Hermione who doubted a lot, he knew that.

It was after classes during the week that Hermione was in the Owlery, mailing a letter to her mother. As Pantailamon flew off into the distance, the heavy parchment envelope dangling from her beak, she sighed and leaned against the windowsill, smiling lazily. She loved days like this. The sun was shining on the lake, making the surface glitter like diamonds. The sight reminded her of Sardinian beaches.

When she was younger, before she had started at Hogwarts, she and her parents had vacationed for a week on the northern coast of Sardinia, the Italian island opposite France's island, Corsica. The waters of the Mediterranean were crystal clear—something the ten year old Hermione had marveled at upon seeing—and sparkled like jewels floating among the waves. Sardinia's summer days were hot and humid but the water of the beaches remained as cold as ice. Just remembering the experience she had not thought of for nearly eight years made Hermione shiver though the Mediterranean was a continent away.

Clear, warm Sardinian days were a continent away as well. The longer Hermione reminisced in the Owlery, the colder the day became and before any time had passed, Hermione was shivering. Scotland's wind was biting and her sky was grey and bland. The warm morning was officially gone to be replaced by the cool afternoon. Just before she turned to leave, Hermione saw someone walking far below her on the castle grounds, heading in the direction of the lake. As far as she could tell, the figure was male and bent forward in protection against the wind. His school robes billowed around him gracefully and his platinum blonde hair was dull in the dull light.

If she didn't know any better—and she was positive that she knew a lot—it was Draco.

From her distance in one of Hogwarts's towers, Hermione couldn't tell how he was feeling or what he was doing. She stood undecided for a few moments in the center of the Owlery, staring at the nesting owls. Hedwig, Harry's snowy white owl, flew down from a perch to one nearer and hooted supportively at Hermione. She smiled at the white bird.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you," she spoke aloud, alerting a few of the other owls to her presence. But she did not seem like a threat so she was ignored for the most part. Hedwig ruffled her feathers and flew up to a higher perch disdainfully. The Head Girl reminded herself to bring owl treats with her the next time she visited the Owlery. Coming to a decision, she decided she would see what Draco was up to by the lake.

It took nearly ten minutes to get from the tower to the path leading to the lake—and Hermione had used every shortcut she knew. From the top of the rocky path, she could see Draco sitting beside the large rock on the western shore of the lake; the same rock he had been sitting on when Hermione found him crying over the news of his mum's attack on that fateful Saturday three weeks ago. In fact, today's weather seemed to imitate that of that Saturday's as well and Hermione hoped it would not rain as it had on that day, even though this time, she was almost positive Draco would allow her into his bed if the need should arise.

But just thinking such a thought had her flushing furiously and she ducked her head away from the spot that was Draco by the lake. Of course, he wasn't watching her—he probably didn't even know she was there—and he had no idea of her thoughts so the action was unnecessary. She decided at that moment that she would always be a prude no matter how much she resisted blushing. Sometimes, her thoughts made her feel like a ridiculous little girl…If only it were so easy to be young again…

This whole relationship with Draco frightened Hermione considerably. She had never been in a relationship so serious! Sure, Viktor Krum had gone so far as to invite her to his home in Bulgaria but what they had was over before it could properly get started. With Voldemort's second rise, many people had to recheck their priorities; including the trivialities of a long distance relationship.

But what she and Draco had was different… It was innocent, powerful, and passionate and it was the passion that scared her. Sometimes, just being in the same room as him made her heart race and she began to feel light headed from joy or happiness. When they were kissing, she wished he would touch her everywhere, and reveal every one of his secrets to her as she touched him everywhere and delved into the warm place of his heart. He made her want to sing like she had never sang before (sing like no one had ever _heard_ her sing before!), loud enough for the heavens to hear. There was something in Draco that made Hermione want to open up and leave no part of her mind, body, or soul hidden. It scared her more than anything that he made her feel that way. It was the fright of the relationship that excited her and made her want to see him again and again so soon after they had parted or argued. She had never felt more alive with anyone before.

All this time as she reflected froze Hermione as the wind crashed into her like a fist against a punching bag. She had to shake her head to clear it and return her mind to the task at hand. Draco was down there, sitting by a very large rock, in the freezing cold, and she felt like bothering him. For the first time since she began her trek, she wondered if her presence would be a nuisance to him, and then decided she would just have to find out.

Even after she reached his side and sat down with her legs drawn to her chest, he merely glanced her way before staring at the lake again. Hermione turned her head to regard her companion and the first thing she noticed was the darkness of his eyes. They weren't as dark as they could get when he was angry or... kissing her, but they were mysterious and contemplating. He looked like he was in a far-away place and she wished she could join him there. His hair was lifted from his forehead, blowing gently at the sides of his pale face. His expression was serene if not thoughtful and the only way she could have described him at that moment was beautiful.

He was beautiful. A masterpiece of marble and silk. An oyster's rare pearl. And he was all hers.

"What are doing out here?" she asked. "It's freezing," she said when she had realized that he was shivering. She pulled her jacket off and quickly transfigured it into a large wool blanket. Wrapping it around his shoulders and hers, she snuggled into his side, resting her cheek on his chest while his cheek rested on the top of her head. He sighed in contentment as his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer.

"Yes it is," he agreed after a moment when he was just enjoying the feel of her body next to his. Hermione looked up into his eyes and the confusion in their chocolate depths was as easy to read as the alphabet. "I like this feeling," he began to explain. "It's like nothing can penetrate me as thoroughly as the biting wind. For the time that I am sitting out here in this cold, I feel everything that I usually don't notice in my body—all the feeling that I take for granted."

Hermione sat up, rearranging the blanket on her shoulders for better coverage, and watched Draco's facial expressions. He looked wistful, thoughtful still, and she could tell he had something on his mind. She could see it in his eyes—maybe she was imagining it but he looked a bit gloomy.

"What are you really thinking about?" she asked, peering at his face for a glimpse of any emotion or elucidation. He sighed and closed his eyes, meeting her gaze with a strange glint of protectiveness that made her whole body warm.

"I was just wondering…" he began but paused again. After Hermione counted to five, she poked him on the cheek and laughed at the startled look on his face.

"Wondering what?" she prompted.

Draco smiled and pulled Hermione sideways into his lap. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and he rewarded her with a kiss on the lips. She pulled away before he could deepen it.

"Don't change the subject!" she admonished him lightheartedly. He had the grace to look chastised.

"I was just wondering what it would be like to be stuck in your own body but unable to move or feel anything. To be able to hear everything going on and not being able say a word. To know something crucial for someone else to know and not being able to tell anyone."

"Is this about your mother?"

The Malfoy heir looked astonished that she could have guessed so easily. Grimacing, he said, "It's that obvious, huh?"

She nodded. "A little bit."

"That's just scary though, you know what I mean?"

"I know exactly what you mean," she answered, remembering how it felt to fall asleep at a strange angle and then to wake with either an arm or a leg numb and unable to move at all. It was a kind of suffocating terror that gripped her heart like experiencing thunderstorms while alone in a dark room could.

As she became comfortable again in Draco's embrace, Hermione closed her eyes and said, "Explain to me what you were talking about earlier. I like to hear the sound of your voice."

"About the wind and that?"

"Yes. Please?"

Draco leaned back to lay on the ground, pulling Hermione with him. She had to resituate the blanket to cover them again and then she was lying at his side with her head on his chest and his hand playing with her hair.

"The feeling—it's like… I can feel everything that my body is feeling at this moment. I notice all of it. I notice the goose bumps forming on my skin; my fingers tingling from the cold—becoming numb; I notice every hair standing up on my arms, legs, and the back of my neck. I feel the breeze stinging my face, ruffling my hair onto my forehead and behind my ears. I can hear the whistling and howling of the wind; I can even taste the lake and smell your hair."—Draco looked at the girl by his side, wrapping both arms around her as best as he could—"I can feel your heat warming the entire left side of my body." For some reason, embarrassment caused Hermione to blush. She ducked her head away from Draco's face but he lifted her chin again with a simple motion of just one of his fingers.

"That's beautiful, Draco," she said, leaning up awkwardly to award her boyfriend with a kiss to warm his cold lips.

Draco smirked as he said arrogantly, "I know. I should become a poet, eh? Writing poetry for my love, Hermione."

Hermione's body froze in their embrace but Draco didn't notice. Studying his face carefully, she could tell that he also hadn't noticed what had slipped out of his mouth.

_My love…_ That's what he had called her. Sure it was in jest but that was the first time he had ever really called her anything except his girlfriend that night he had eaten dinner with the Gryffindors. Just the thought of those words spilling from his beautiful lips was enough to warm the Head Girl more than any fire could. She didn't say anything to him for fear that he would regret what he had said and distance himself from her. She would just have to take what she could get and give him everything she had to offer.

_My love_…

She just couldn't wait to write this in her diary and immobilize this scene forever; capturing the giddiness she was feeling.

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"Quiet down, class! Do not make me say it again!" Snape bellowed as he flew down the aisle to the front of the classroom and turned to face his students, his robes following a second behind him. Everyone leaned forward to hear his next words because he spoke so softly. "The time I have been waiting for most all year is finally at hand." His face twisted into an evil smile that set the students on the defensive. It was never a pleasant experience to see Snape smile. Something had to make him extremely happy to do so. The students knew to be wary. "Today we are going to finish the _Imperium Corporis_ and test it." Many students groaned but the smarter ones showed their displeasure in silence.

"I will give you an hour to finish the brew. You may begin, starting with adding the essence of milkweed and stirring the potion for ten minutes clockwise." His sneer bared all of his yellow teeth. Hermione had half a mind to recommend her parents to him. But when everyone continued to stare at him, no one moving, he yelled, "Well? Get started!" This sent all fifteen students in motion.

Hermione grabbed hers and Draco's flasks from Snape's desk as he pulled out his notes and already prepared ingredients. Settling down beside him, she smiled and poured the contents of the five flasks into their cauldron. Before they could add the essence of milkweed, the concoction had to be heated to twenty-five degrees Celsius. They didn't talk as they waited and Hermione wondered how far along Claire had gotten. Since she had started school—and thus the potion—after everyone else, she had spent the last week in class trying to catch up and brew the potion alone. There just weren't enough students for her to be in a pair and Snape had refused to put her with her fellow Ravenclaws or her Gryffindor or Hufflepuff friends.

She also had to come in after dinner to try and catch up as well. When she had told this to Ron after being held after her first Potions class, he had been outraged.

"He can't make you do that! That's like serving detention and you didn't do anything wrong!"

Claire had done her best to placate her boyfriend and after several minutes while he fumed and listened to her, he had calmed down. "I know eet doesn't seem fair, Ronald, but just theenk w'at I weel be learning! At Beauxbatons, Madam Maxime would 'ave never allowed 'er students to brew an eelegal potion! I am excited to 'ave thees opportuneety!"

She had given him her pleading gaze with her bright blue eyes and stuck out her lower lip, winning Ron over with feminine wiles and not her Veela charm. So now Claire worked in a corner of the classroom by herself while her boyfriend glared at the instructor and sent concerned and supporting looks her way all throughout class. Hermione felt a bit lucky that she had the best lab partner that she could ever think of having. It was a plus that she was in love with him too.

The hour toiled away as Hermione and Draco worked, adding the essence of milkweed and stirring the potion for ten minutes in the correct direction, waiting for it to turn the right shade of purple, then waiting for it to cool to the desired temperature. The last ingredient was added and the brew changed color and consistency again. When it began to boil with green bubbles, they bottled their potion back into five flasks and waited for the rest of the class to finish as well.

Hermione sat on her stool nervously waiting for Snape to call the time. She had the sinking feeling in her stomach that she knew exactly who would be first to test their potion. It would either be her, Ron or Harry. She could only hope that when she tested the potion, Draco would be the one administering it. Harry and Ron's partners were Slytherins too but their partners wouldn't be kind if they were under the influence of a body controlling potion. What the hell was Snape thinking making 17 year olds make and _drink_ a potion like that? He had to be more demented than she had previously thought!

"Alright now, put down your stirring rods. Whatever isn't done will not get finished," Snape called the exact second the first hour of class was up. He stalked around the classroom, looking in cauldrons and making sure that no one was trying to insert last minute ingredients. From the characteristic gold steam swirling around in the air above the workstations, Hermione deduced that all of the Ravenclaws, save Claire, and maybe two of the Hufflepuffs had finished their potion and done it correctly. She was sorry to see that Ron and Harry did not have the same kind of steam rising from their cauldron. Harry's was bubbling so much that some of the concoction dribbled down the sides of the pewter container while Ron's didn't look like it was doing anything at all.

"Bottle what you have," Snape called. When everyone had finished he continued. "Who shall be the first to test their potion…hmmm?" he said as he scratched his chin in mock contemplation. Hermione ducked her head, trying not to bring attention to herself. Draco grabbed her hand and squeezed but while she smiled, she didn't look up. "How about Miss Granger?"

Hermione's stomach plummeted and her heart fell, but as long as Draco was the one testing the effectiveness of the potion, she knew she would be in safe hands. Standing from her stool, she grabbed one of the flasks as she and Draco made their way to the front of the classroom. But before Draco could even pass their work station, Snape said, "No, Mr. Malfoy. Just Miss Granger." Draco's admiration for his Head of House dropped considerably as he sat back down at his stool and watched helplessly as Hermione stood nervously in front of the class.

"Only take two sips," Snape said as he handed the flask to the Head Girl. "That should be enough for ten minutes." Hermione nearly panicked as she unstoppered the sampling of the potion and took two sips. Ten minutes seemed like an awfully long time just to test a potion…

Draco was thinking along the same lines. He knew Snape was going to milk this moment for all it was worth. He knew that the Potions master was going to try his best to humiliate Hermione as best as he could. And his opinion of his favorite teacher dropped marginally more.

Snape took the flask from Hermione's hand before she could drop it or spill it when the potion took effect and she slumped over slightly. Draco gulped at the empty look in her eyes. She didn't look like she was looking at anything; her usually warm brown eyes were glossy and vacant. There was a hushed silence over the students in the dungeon as Shape sneered and began his mental torture to the Head Girl.

"Miss Granger… I command you to…" he stopped to think for a moment, "sing us a little song." The class murmured quietly amongst themselves but surprisingly, Snape did not quiet them.

"_You think you own whatever land you stand on,_" she began to sing in that beautiful smooth voice Draco remembered. He did not recognize the song but after looking around the room for a second, he noticed that a couple of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws did.

"_These students are just dead things you can maim._

_But I know every boy and girl and creature_

_Has a life, has a spirit, has a name."_

And even though Draco had never heard the song before, he could tell that she was fighting Snape's command by changing the words of the tune to anger him. His songbird was back, but this time, she had acid in her words.

"_You think the only people who are people_

_Are the people who act and think like you._

_But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger,_

_You'll know things you never knew you never knew."_

Snape wasstartled by the song as well. He didn't seem to recognize it either but he could tell he was being made fun of.

"_Have you ever seen the wolf cry to the big full moon?_

_Or asked the grinning Padfoot why he grinned?"_

But these words stopped the Potions master in his tracks. He finally got control of the situation and commanded Hermione to stop. Those few students who had known the song were laughing and the rest of the students snickered at Snape's expense; even his Slytherins cut in a few guffaws!

"Silence!" he hissed with immediate results. "Ten points from Gryffindor!" This was totally unfair since Snape had asked for it and it was definitely coming to him but Draco could tell that if Hermione had control of her body, she would have been smirking right that second. He sobered when he remembered that she did not have that liberty.

"Fine then, Miss Granger. If you want to play that game… I command you to rub your head and pat your stomach and hop on one foot down the aisle and back again." Hermione had no choice but to comply. She rubbed her head, messing up her immaculate hair; patted her stomach like a monkey; and hopped on one foot down the aisle between all the work stations, turned around and came back, nearly falling over a few times. No one laughed except the two Slytherins who were currently Harry and Ron's partners while Harry, Ron and Draco all fumed silently at Snape. He merely sneered at the glares he received, not only from Hermione's friends and boyfriend, but from the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs that liked her too. Even Claire looked up from her unfinished potion to frown in disapproval.

Meanwhile, Hermione seemed to be trying to fight the potion. She still wasn't able to move on her own but her eyes were glistening with tears that were unwilling to fall. It was unnerving for Draco to see her emotionless with her dull eyes full of tears.

"Alright, stop now." Hermione's arms fell to her sides. The feral grin Shape gave her had the class (minus the two Slytherins) grinding their teeth and wondering what the Potions master would do next to humiliate the Head Girl. He began to circle her like a wolf circling its prey.

"I _command_ you to tell me the one thing that even your best friends don't know." As she opened her mouth to speak, Snape clarified, "About you."

Draco's mouth fell open in horror. Maybe he didn't know every little thing about Hermione but he _did_ know one thing that he knew she didn't want Harry or Ron to know…

"I get sick when I am stressed," she said simply and emotionlessly. Harry and Ron shared a look. They were about to find out what Hermione had kept from them for nearly a year and a half. They could feel it. Everyone else in the class could feel that something important was about to be revealed too.

"What does that mean?" Snape demanded, disappointed that he hadn't gotten a more detailed answer. When no one spoke, he said again, "I _command_ you to tell me what you mean!"

Hermione's lip trembled but she was forced to reply.

"When I become extremely angry, depressed, scared, worried, anxious, nervous—"

"Get on with it!"

"—or stressed, I throw up blood."

There was a hushed silence as everyone stared at Hermione. Harry and Ron had jumped out of their seats, their chests heaving, while Draco remained seated; though his eyes were wide with some emotion he couldn't name. She had just told the entire class her deepest secret, one she had doggedly guarded for ever a year.

"Have you _seen_ anyone about that?" Snape asked, looking at Hermione as if she had just grown an extra head and both started spewing blood.

"Yes, a psychiatrist, a Muggle head doctor," she replied. Even though a third of the class had no idea what a psychiatrist was and only a vague one of what a doctor was, no one interrupted and all watched with rapt attention.

"And have you any medication?" Snape asked, taking another step away from Hermione in case she actually did throw anything up.

"No," she replied to a few gasps from among her classmates. She could have left her response at that but the potion was tugging at something in her mind, making her want to speak. Or maybe it was herself, hoping to release this secret from her shoulders and lessen the burden. "But my psychiatrist told me to relieve my stress any way I could. The easiest way was to keep a diary and every time I think I might have a reaction, I write in it."

"And that works?" Snape asked skeptically with a hint of bewilderment as he stroked his pointy, pale chin.

"Only when I have my diary with me."

Knowing an opportunity when he saw one, Snape jumped into action.

"Do you have that diary with you now? I_ command_ you to tell me!" he added when he thought she wouldn't answer.

"Yes," Hermione said reluctantly. The potion was starting to wear off and she was getting her ability to make her own facial expressions back. Her face was scrunched up in confusion and panic. She couldn't stop herself from speaking and she had a feeling of what was coming.

Grinning hatefully, Snape said, "Let me see it!" His tone let the students know that he knew the potions was becoming less effective and he was trying to make the most of the time he had left.

Hermione grit her teeth and her hand forcefully slow went to the pocket of her robes. She _was_ fighting the potion with all the will power she had but a liquid brew was much more powerful than a spell and harder to overcome—if you hadn't taken the right precautions before ingesting it and the Head Girl hadn't. With her whole arm shaking, she reached her hand towards Snape and opened her fist. Without a second thought or look towards the class, he plucked the tiny scarlet book from her hand and restored it to its original size. He didn't even wait to admire the leather cover with Hermione's name embossed in gold on the front before he had it open and flipped through the pages. His eyes scanned the dates at the top of each purple and black entry but he wasn't satisfied until he found the most recent entry.

His eyes widened slightly even as his brow arched while he quickly read through the passage. Of course, he wasn't going to leave the torment there…

"Listen to this, class," he called, grinning triumphantly and sneering like the dirty snake that he was. Without further ado, he delved right into the passage without any of the feeling Hermione had put into it.

"_'October 15, 1997. Today was the most glorious day. Isn't it wonderful to be alive?'_ No not particularly… _'I sent off Pan with a letter for mum. When I told her about my relationship with Draco, I hadn't told her his name because I knew she and Daddy wouldn't approve. They would remember everything I ever told them Draco had done to me and they would remember "meeting" Lucius Malfoy in Diagon Alley before second year. The last thing I need is for them to worry about me even more than they already do. So I just sent off a letter describing how Draco treats me and makes me feel._

_"'After I had sent off the letter, I saw Draco heading down to the lake and I met with him there. Oh, Merlin. He's made me happier than I have ever been before. He called me his love. He'd actually said something along the lines of, 'I should write poetry for my love, Hermione' because of something I had said. But in all the time I've spent with him, he's never called me anything except when he told his mum that I was a friend and he told Harry that I was his girlfriend. It just makes my heart jump every time I think about it. He'll never know how happy he made me at that one moment. I couldn't bear to tell him. He would probably distance himself from me or… I don't know. I'm afraid of him leaving me, though that probably sounds stupid._

_"'On that fateful Saturday that I found Draco crying by the lake because of what had happened to his mother,'"_—Everyone's heads snapped in Draco's direction as he sat in his chair, gaping at Snape. It seemed like everything Hermione had ever said to Harry and Ron became clear as this last little mystery cleared up. This is what Hermione had seen Malfoy doing that he wouldn't want anyone to witness. A few people were giggling at the notion of Draco Malfoy—Slytherin's resident tough guy—crying over his _mum_ of all things, and Draco was painfully aware of it. He was also aware of the tears that were poring down Hermione's cheeks and the way her face was crumpled in mortification and pain.

Snape had had to stop his reading as everyone whispered and he sneered but now he continued on. "'_I never would have believed that we would be together. After he had shot down my first attempt at becoming friends, I hadn't expected him to agree to the truce I offered after. I'm glad he did. I've never felt like this with anyone else before. I am so totally in l—_'" But the scarlet diary was being snatched violently out of Snape's hands. The potion had finally worn off completely and Hermione stood in front of the class crying. One fist was clenched at her side while the other clasped the leather book painfully as her knuckles turned white. Her breathing was hard and erratic and the pained expression on her face was in account of the betrayal of her teacher—a teacher she had admired for his intelligence and gift with Potions since first year. A wave of coldness undulated through her body, starting at her heart and spreading to all her limbs. How could her own teacher do this to her? _How could he?_

"_You,_" she started in a tone full of absolute and complete loathing, with her jaw clenched through her heavy pants, "_are a _horrid_ man!_"

Without looking back or stopping, she ran down the aisle and out the door, leaving the bewildered and astonished class behind.

"Well, this is one of the best classes we've ever had!" said Theodore Nott, one of the Slytherins at the back of the room that was currently Harry's partner. Harry and Ron turned to glare at him but he took no notice. Draco was too astonished by what was now out in the open and Hermione's abrupt leave that he was not really paying attention to anything else. He was thinking how much he truly _loathed_ his Head of House at that moment.

The Potions master stood at the front of the classroom sneering in satisfaction. Draco stood from his stool and started gathering his and Hermione's things, packing away their notes and stuffing their books into their bags.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy," the instructor called from the front of the classroom, but Draco ignored him. Shouldering his and Hermione's bags, he headed for the door. "Don't you leave this classroom, Draco or I will deduct twenty points from Slytherin!" Snape threatened to the class's amazement. Was he _actually_ going to take points from _his own_ house, because of his favorite student?

"_Just stop me_," Draco seethed. Shouldering the bags again and leaving out the door, making sure it slammed shut behind him.

"_Fine_ then, Mr. Malfoy! _Fifty points from _Slytherin!" Snape screamed at the closed wooden door. Everyone jumped and no one dared to move or breathe louder than humanly possibly. The Potions master's fury at the moment would probably be fatal if it fell upon one person.

Harry and Ron jumped out of their seats and began packing their bags as well. But anticipating this, Snape stalked to their workstation in three long strides and placed his hands flat on the table in front of them. Leaning over until his nose was nearly touching the boys' bowed heads, his jaw clenched until he might bite through his teeth, he said in his quietest, deadliest voice, "_Sit down_ _or you will have detention _every— single—day_ until you graduate_._ Do you understand me?"_ His face was so close to Harry and Ron's that they could see every greasy pore on his face and every hair in his nose. The vein in his neck and his temple throbbed and the boys feared it would explode with rage. His yellow teeth and foul breath was enough to make them sit down on their own, but the threat of not being able to play on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team ever again had them sitting immediately.

Snape straightened and flew back to the front of the classroom. "Now then," he said quietly. "Miss Abbot… You're potion. Now." His tone brooked no argument. Nervously, Hannah Abbot left her seat with one of her flasks of her finished potion and made her way to the front of the room. Her Ravenclaw partner could only look on helplessly as she ingested her potion and watch as Snape tested its effectiveness.

He made sure his commands were as simple and non-humiliating as possible from then on.

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**(A/N): Well, there you go! Time to review now! I should give credit where it is due so the song Hermione sang was Colors of the Wind from the Disney movie Pocahontas. Obviously, I changed the words a bit. :)**

**On another note, I am in need of a beta to make sure that everything is in order and good. There are some days that my writing is just ugh and my beta could help with that as well. If you think you would be a good beta, send me an email (check my profile page) that says "Beta Applicant" in the subject box. If the subject box does not have this, I am going to delete the email (for internet security and to make sure I don't get viruses, you know how it goes) so make sure it is there. In the email I would like a list of previous experience/s, names of stories you have betaed for and the authors. Lastly, I would also like for you to copy and paste one of my chapters into the email and fix any errors as you see them. It would definitely help if the applicants have Microsoft Word as that is the program I use to submit my chapters. If anyone is absolutely serious about applying to be my beta, then this shouldn't be a problem. Or, if anyone knows of a beta that wouldn't mind beta-ing for me, tell me that in a PM or an email as long as "Beta Applicant" is still in the subject box. **

**Another thing, this chapter was supposed to have a lot more to it but I decided that I would post it now how it is (an average length of my long chapters) instead of writing something monstrously long and making you guys wait even longer. So, be proud of me! Well, I guess that is it. I will see you all in chapter 25 where we will see a solution to a horrible problem! I hope to post again on the 22, the aniversary of starting Diary of a Songbird, but, as always, I can't promise anything...**


	25. What was Broken

**(A/N): Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone for their reviews and support! I don't know what I would do without you guys! I would probably still be writing Chapter 3! You guys can be so flattering!**

**princessgrl: I think it is so amazing how you seem to predict what's going to happen next in the story, even if you don't realize it yourself! This is the second time you've been spot on about something you mentioned in a review and maybe you haven't noticed it! Thanks so, so, so much for the review! **

**Emi-Bum: Yeah, the story did start out a bit cliché. I totally don't like the first three chapters… Thanks for your review!**

**Jaejae: Haha… I know, he's insufferable here isn't he:Sigh: But that's why I love him… Yeah, well, I realized he was kinda stupid in this chapter but that makes it easier to hate him… Thanks for the review!**

**FallenMadness88: Glad to have you back! I had totally forgotten what (I think it was Sirius) said about Purebloods intermarrying and all that jazz. Either way, Ron gets the girl! Thanks so much for the review!**

**(A/N): Thank s to these wonderful reviewers too! **Tacki, SexyDraco04, Nick-Nack-Black, xhaekyu, Flip chick, Lauressa, the singer, **and** MIDNIGHT-PIXIE. **And a happy, happy birthday to **–mz chinagurl-**! Congratulate me! It's also Diary of a Songbird's birthday! One year since I first posted this story, baby!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters, settings, and terminology belong to the wonderfully genius mind of Joanne Kathleen Rowling. Sadly.

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**What was Broken:**

Short puffs of crystallized air emitted from Draco's mouth as he hurried through the freezing dungeons fuming. The farther away from the Potions classroom he got, the more he calmed down but until he found Hermione, he would not stop moving. With only a faint idea of where the Head Girl may have gone, he headed towards the fourth floor and the Head common room. He could feel the weight of both his and Hermione's school bags on each of his shoulders and both of their Potions texts under his arms. His muscles were starting to tire but the fatigue of his body was insignificant to the anger that was warring in his heart.

He had no idea who he was mad at more: Snape for spouting off information that wasn't his own or Hermione for getting herself into a situation where Snape could spout off information that wasn't his own. Blaming her wasn't fair though. She couldn't help that she had been under the influence of a potion that forced her to do or say whatever Snape wanted her to do or say. She hadn't been able to resist the potion no matter how much she tried, and it was _her_ diary! She was bloody well allowed to write whatever she wanted in it! It was Snape's fault that he had read to the class exactly what his unusually large nose shouldn't have been in! By the time he had reached the fourth floor corridor, Draco was able to squelch his anger at Hermione but his fury at his Head of House only grew.

He found her sitting against the wall opposite the portrait hole with her knees pulled up to her chest and her face buried in her arms. The sight set him into a panic. Dropping their books and bags to the stone floor with a clattering echo, he ran to Hermione's side and slid onto his knees.

"Hermione! Are you alright?" he asked breathlessly, pushing a few strands of her hair out of her face so that he could get a look at her. She mumbled a few high-pitched, watery words that were unfathomable through her tears and her hair. Sliding his hands underneath her knees and her lower back, he lifted her sideways into his lap. Her fingers automatically gripped the front of his school robes tightly as she buried her face in his chest. "Would you mind repeating that? I couldn't seem to make it out," Draco teased fondly, relieved that he had found her so soon.

Lifting her head slowly to look into his miraculously pale eyes, she said again, "I've embarrassed you! I've gotten you into trouble! What are you doing here?" Her voice was still high-pitched and watery but this time, her words weren't so mumbled.

"No, you haven't embarrassed me," Draco lied, "and I only lost fifty points for leaving without Snape's consent." His voice was light and teasing again but soft. Hermione tried to smile but could only manage a teary grimace. She hiccupped as she clung to Draco's supportive form. He would always be there for her, she knew, when she needed someone to lean on or to talk to, but the severity of her sobs was making it hard enough to breath, let alone speak.

Draco tried to make comforting sounds. He tried to rock her back and forwards. No matter what he did, Hermione only seemed to cry harder. And then she pushed herself out of Draco's lap and onto her hands and knees, throwing up the contents of her stomach. The Head Boy didn't even have to look to know it was her blood puddling on the floor. He felt a pang of guilt for shielding his eyes from her; ashamed that he couldn't stomach it to look at her when she definitely didn't need his disgust. Once the sounds of her heaving stopped, he opened his eyes and Scourgified the mess away. Hermione lay on her side, weak with emotional stress mostly, the tears still pouring down her face and now running onto the cold stone floor.

Leaning forward more, Draco cleaned off her mouth as well, then, lifting her up again, he rose to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked in alarm as the corridor around them moved too fast for her liking.

"I told myself a long time ago that if I thought you would become endangered by these reactions, that I would throw you over my shoulder kicking and screaming and take you to see Madam Pomfrey myself. We're going to the Hospital Wing," he replied as he completely passed up the bags and books he had discarded to the floor moments earlier. Luckily, the Hospital Wing was right around the corner.

Hermione had nearly fallen asleep in his arms as he reached the door. With his arms full, he slightly shook her to wake her up a bit. Her red-rimmed eyes opened blearily and Draco spoke softly.

"Do you mind getting the door?" Hermione lifted her arm weakly and rapped her knuckles on the wood. The sound was faint and could hardly be heard.

"You could have just opened it…" Draco grumbled, but he was more irked by the whole situation than her. He didn't think he'd be able to carry her for too much longer. His muscles were already tired from carrying two heavy book bags and now his arms were getting stiff from staying in the same position for a while.

Apparently her feeble knock was enough because the door swung open to Madam Pomfrey's stern face. Upon seeing Hermione in Draco's arms and her tear-stained face, the mediwitch's eyes widened in shock.

"Mr. Malfoy? What's happened!" She threw the door open to let Draco through.

"It's a long story, but first I need to put her down."

Madam Pomfrey ushered the Head Boy towards a bed at the end of the infirmary. Draco saw a half boy, half pig-like creature sitting on a bed through one of the curtains.

"A fourth year boy thought he would practice human transfiguration on his first year brother," the mediwitch explained at Draco's look of disbelief. "Here we are. This should do." She had led him to the very last bed on the left side of the room, farthest away from the door. He placed Hermione down over the sheets. Her eyes were closed and she whimpered as he released her, refusing to let go of his neck.

"Hermione, you need to let go of me. You're going to get help," Draco said softly. She opened her eyes and reluctantly removed her arms from his person. Lying back on the bed, she turned her head away from the two people watching and continued to cry with embarrassment and shame.

"What's happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked again urgently. Draco sat down in the chair at the bedside and rubbed his face tiredly.

"Snape happened," he said, his words muffled by his hands, "Life happened." Before the mediwitch could ask for clarification, Draco began the story of how he and Hermione had come together in truce. He told her the story of Hermione's reaction—what he knew of them—and what Snape had done today in class. Madam Pomfrey listened quietly and unbelievingly, and by the end of his story, she didn't know what to say.

"I think she's under a curse," Draco said, gazing directly into the woman's eyes, enchanting her with his own dark orbs. "This just doesn't happen to people. It has to be magical, and it's just too much of a coincidence that she hasn't seen a Healer for this."

Madam Pomfrey turned to look at the girl on the bed. She had been lulled to sleep by the sound of Draco's voice, calming down enough to rest. Now the wizarding nurse went to the side of the bed and drew her wand. Holding it parallel to the sleeping girl's body, she waved the wand from the top of her head to her toes and back again. With a flick of her wrist, gold statistics leaked from the wand where the older woman could read them. Draco could make no sense of the numbers, words, and charts (not to mention they looked backwards to him because of where he was sitting), but it seemed as if she could.

Sighing, she said, "There is physically nothing wrong with her, Mr. Malfoy. I can find nothing. No ulcers, no infections. If there is a curse upon her, I must give her a potion and try again."

Draco nodded as he rubbed his bottom lip. "Do whatever you have to. I want this to stop. For her." He glanced at Hermione's sleeping body and remembered what she had looked like at his side in his bed. He wished he could have more moments like that with her but hadn't wanted to push her into anything after that night.

As she went to her stores cupboard, Madam Pomfrey noticed the fond look in the Malfoy heir's eyes as he gazed at the Head Girl. She and the rest of the staff knew of the Granger-Malfoy relationship. When it had first begun, everyone had been startled and slightly suspicious of Mr. Malfoy's motives on the brightest student Hogwarts had seen in nearly two decades. Since then, there was no doubt in anyone's minds that the two really cared for each other. Professor Dumbledore was the happiest of anyone over the proceedings of the relationship. He made sure to gloat about the success of his plan any time someone brought up the pair or one of the pair in conversation.

Finding the potion she was looking for, she returned to Hermione's bedside and asked Draco to help her wake Hermione. Once her eyes had opened, the older woman motioned to the flask of potion in her hand. Draco had helped ease Hermione up until she was sitting while Madam Pomfrey poured the potion down her throat. The Head Girl spluttered but swallowed all that was in her mouth.

"What is this supposed to do to her?" Draco asked nervously, his eyes watching Hermione as he skin began to glow blue. The light surrounding her woke her up more; she was staring at herself, at her arms and legs and stomach, in astonishment and with a bit of fright.

Keeping her eyes on Hermione as well, the mediwitch answered. "No worries, Mr. Malfoy. The potion runs through her body, searching for any magic. Whatever parts of her the magic controls will glow a different color. Red for spells, green for potions. If there is no potion or spell influencing her, it won't harm her."

Just as she said that, Hermione's head, heart, and stomach began to glow red. Hermione could only watch with wide eyes as her body gave off two different colored lights.

"It seems as if your suspicions were correct," the nurse told Draco. "There's no way for me to tell what is wrong with her but I can at least tell you that it is a spell affecting her."

Draco looked thoughtfully at Hermione. The glow was dimming and a few seconds later, had disappeared altogether.

"So you can't tell what the spell is?" he asked even though he already knew the answer.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't recognize the symptoms. Either it is an obscure magic or it is a Dark Art. Not until I know what the curse is can I find a cure."

Draco nodded in understanding. Hermione stared at the fingers she was twisting around in her lap, biting her lip in the awkward silence.

"If you'll excuse me, I have another patient I need to attend to. I must ask that you remain here, Miss Granger, for observation. I should ask the Headmaster what he makes of this," Madam Pomfrey said, returning to the stern demeanor she was known for. "And I would ask that you return to class, Mr. Malfoy, but I can see that you would not heed me." Draco smiled at the back of Hogwarts's resident nurse and turned to look back at his girlfriend.

Grabbing his hand into her cold ones, Hermione took a good look into his eyes and said, "I'm sorry about all of this. You don't have to stay. I don't want to be a bother." Even though she didn't want to be a nuisance to him, Hermione hoped that he wouldn't leave. The silence grew awkward again and she released his hand from hers, staring at her lap.

"Hermione…" He didn't speak again until she looked up at him once more. Moving to sit on the bed beside her, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her tenderly; trying to show her everything he refused to tell her she was to him. Both of them were breathless as he pulled away; he rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, rubbing her cheek with one hand while the other stroked her hair. "What are you talking about, you silly girl? You are not a bother and I want to stay with you. You have no reason to be sorry. I …" but his voice faded as he refused to let himself say what he wished he could.

_Weakling… _his mind taunted him in the form of Lucius's voice.

_'Never,' _he thought back to the voice.

_Even without the weak feelings, you'd be too weak to express them!_

_'No, there's just no need to get her hopes up and then break them when I marry Pansy.'_

Surprisingly, Lucius's voice gave him some sound advice that the real man never would have offered.

_If you really love her, you would find a way to get out of your imminent engagement…_

Draco removed himself from this line of thought. This was not the time to be thinking these sorts of thoughts. Graduation was still ages away.

Hermione rested her cheek on Draco's chest, both of them sitting on the bed with their eyes closed. The only sounds that could be heard were the shufflings and murmurs of Madam Pomfrey with her other patient. A few moments later, a door shut as she pulled aside the curtains around Hermione's bed, stopping when her eyes fell upon the scene before her. She cleared her throat and Hermione and Draco looked up. The Head Girl looked sheepish as she crawled off of Draco's lap and back to the bed but he was expressionless as he sat back into the chair.

"I'm going to have to speak to the Headmaster about this, Miss Granger," the mediwitch said. Hermione nodded, her shoulders slumping. After Snape had thrown her secret into the public, she knew that it would be secret no longer. "Is there anything you need?" the older woman asked before leaving, but Hermione didn't need anything except Draco.

Both she and Draco listened as she opened and closed a door closest to Hermione's bed; supposedly the nurse's office.

"Nervous?" Draco asked, squeezing Hermione's hand supportively. Her body was shaking almost convulsively, from cold or nerves he couldn't tell.

"No," she replied, even as her hand tightened around his so much that she could have snapped his fingers off. "Embarrassed mostly." She wiped some stray tears from her eyes hurriedly with her free hand. "Everyone's making too big a deal of this."

"Maybe you're making too little," Draco muttered in turn, but before he could say anything more, Madam Pomfrey had returned with Professor Dumbledore. His face was grave but he gave his Head Girl a smile.

"What seems to be the problem, my dear?" he asked, taking his seat on the bed beside her.

"There's no problem, Professor. I just have an overprotective boyfriend," she replied, wiping away the rest of her tears. She stared back into his eyes, almost daring him to tell her otherwise.

"Of course there isn't," the Headmaster said just to placate her, patting her hand. He stood from the bed once again and guided the nurse outside of the curtains. The sound of their whispers and murmurs could be heard but were unclear. A moment later, the sound of departing footsteps and then silence. Madam Pomfrey came back to Hermione's side but she had nothing to do or say.

"Well, I suppose you might as well change," she said finally, after an awkward silence. Retrieving a hospital gown for the Head Girl, she said, "Come along, Mr. Malfoy." Draco stood from his chair to leave but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Can't he stay?" she asked. The older woman arched an eyebrow but her face was cold and stubborn.

"I should think that is _highly_ inappropriate," she said sternly, crossing her arms in disapproval.

"Oh, but he won't look!" the Head Girl pleaded. "I just don't want to be left alone." Her voice softened.

"It will only take a minute!" the nurse retorted. "Out with you, Mr. Malfoy! Out!"

Hermione's eyes were still pleading as she gazed upon Draco about to leave the curtained area around the bed.

"I'll be right outside," he said, pointing just outside the curtains. Hermione only nodded. She knew Madam Pomfrey wouldn't give in. As she was left to her own devices, she changed from her black school robes to the white cotton night gown given to her. She pulled the sheets back from the bed and settled herself in between them, getting comfortable. Everyone _was _making her reactions too big a deal. Why did they all have to get in her face? She was even angry at Draco for carrying her to the Hospital Wing in the first place. She felt better now... Why couldn't she just leave? Why couldn't she be left alone?

Rifling through the pockets of her discarded robe, she pulled out the pen she always carried with her and the diary she had shrunk again before Draco had found her in the hallway. Opening to a new page, she began to release all of her emotion back onto paper. This diary was a friend. These written words were much kinder to her than confrontation with people had been lately.

She was so engrossed in her writing that she didn't hear the sound of a door, footsteps pounding on the stone and coming nearer, or Draco's voice saying, "What are _you_ doing here." What she did hear is what Snape replied to that comment.

"You will address me with respect, Mr. Malfoy. It doesn't matter what house you're in, I should always receive that gesture."

Hermione's eyes widened. What _was_ he doing here? Closing her diary as fast as she could, she shoved the leather book and pen under her pillow and pulled the sheets up to her chin.

"Hey! You can't go in there!" Draco called just before Snape threw open the curtains and crossed his arms at the foot of the hospital bed. Dumbledore and Draco followed right after, standing on either side of the Potions master.

"Worked yourself into a fit, I see?" Snape said with a sneer. The Head Girl's blush could not be concealed as she looked away from the three men standing in front of her. She didn't even notice the look of rebuke the Headmaster gave the younger man.

"If it's all the same, Professor, I believe it is _your_ fault I've "worked myself into a fit" and Draco's that I am here," she replied to his snark.

"I was just trying to help, Hermione!" Draco very nearly yelled in frustration, throwing his arms open at his sides.

Before either teen could get too worked up, Dumbledore said in his soft, reasoning tone, "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure Miss Granger knows you only care for her."

"Oh, shut up! This is all your fault! We never would have gotten together if you hadn't forced us on each other!" Draco turned to the old man and yelled.

"Is that such a bad thing, Draco?" Hermione whispered, staring at her lap once again. Snape could only stand in the commotion, smiling at the devastation he was arrogant enough to believe he caused.

"Of course it isn't," he replied back, his voice and body slumping in defeat. "It just feels like you don't want my help!" he said with a touch more anger.

"I _don't _want your help! I don't want anyone's help! I am _fine_ how I am! I've been coping and dealing with this long before you found out! Why is this such a big deal to everyone? Harry and Ron giving me worried glances when they think I don't notice; you, grimacing every time I write in my diary. Potion or no potion, curse or no curse, I am fine!"

Draco couldn't stand to see her being so unreasonable. In the years before, when he _hadn't_ liked her, he knew she had been a reasonable girl. Maybe this was another effect of the potion or spell? To deny the problem so the victim doesn't get treatment?

"Obviously there _is_ something wrong with her," Draco said to Dumbledore before stomping away from the bedside. Hermione stared guiltily at her lap, tears forming in her eyes. She hadn't wanted Draco to _leave_. God! She loved him so much but was so clueless as to how to deal with him! Letting her head fall into her hands, she allowed the tears that had built up behind her eyes to fall. Her whole body shook with her quiet sobs and both Snape and the Headmaster were left to feel somewhat uncomfortable in her presence.

Madam Pomfrey bustled through the curtains and looked around in uncertainty.

"What is going on here? Why is Mr. Malfoy sitting by the door and _what did you do to upset her?_" she added when she saw the Head Girl crying in the bed.

Dumbledore conjured a poofy chair and sat down tiredly. Snape continued to stand with his arms crossed over his chest but no one spoke. Madam Pomfrey looked furiously at the two professors and tapped her foot impatiently on the floor.

"If someone doesn't speak right now, I am kicking _everyone_ out!"

"It's nothing, Madam," Hermione lifted her head and said. "Just fix me already so I can get out of here." Wiping away the tears in her eyes, she stared at the three adults defiantly, waiting—no, _daring_—one of them to tell her she wasn't allowed to leave.

The Headmaster sighed and said, "I've brought Professor Snape because I thought he would know more about any potions or Dark curses—no offense, my boy—"— Snape grunted—"than anyone else in this school. I hope he can be of some aid. As for me, I have an important meeting I must attend with a disgruntled parent. I'll check back in on you later, Miss Granger," he said as he stood and vanished his chair. Without another word, he had left the infirmary. Now that the Headmaster was gone and unable to watch Snape, Draco sidled back into the curtained area and sat down in the only chair by the bed. Neither he nor Hermione spoke to each other or looked at each other. Instead, Hermione focused on the words Snape was forming now.

"What are the symptoms?" he asked Madam Pomfrey.

"Well, I'm not quite sure. There seems to be extreme emotion followed by throwing up blood. That's all I can gather from this mess." Hermione just nodded at the words but no one was really paying attention to her. "I gave her the Magic Locating potion to see whether she was under the influence of a spell or potion."

"And?" Snape prompted.

"Maybe you should see for yourself." The mediwitch handed the still half full flask to the Potions master. Unstoppering the vial, he handed it to Hermione and told her to take two sips.

Hermione took the potion, shuddering in remembrance of the last time he had told her to take "two sips". This time as she drank, she didn't splutter but her face screwed up at the abhorrent taste. Again, her body began to glow blue, her heart, head, and stomach glowing red. Snape leaned down to peer into Hermione's eyes, rubbing his chin softly in contemplation.

"I'm going to use Legilimancy now," he said but he was already pulling memories from the back of her mind forward. All of them were just flashes, quick images that she had forgotten about or wouldn't want him to see. A shirtless Draco pinning Hermione to the wall of their common room—hanging by one hand from Ron's broom at the Quidditch pitch, Draco smirking—cowering in the back of the store _Fixation_ while Harry, Ron, and Draco had it out at the front of the store—the pale grey eyes from her dreams, looming so close to her vision—flying on a hippogriff with Harry and Sirius Black—a man in a Death Eater mask pointing his wand at her, a flash of purple light, and then blackness.

Snape paused here, opening up the memory like a file so that he could watch from outside of Hermione's body as Antonin Dolohov shot the spell at her and the faint look of surprise on her face before slumping to the ground. In the darkness of the memory, the faded sound of her name being called was heard but before she could try to identify the voice, she was looking back into Snape's black eyes again. Both he and Hermione noticed the tears that were pouring down her cheeks for the first time but Hermione had no idea why she would be crying. As she wiped away her tears, Snape stood and stepped away from the bed, unsettled by everything he had seen.

Madam Pomfrey and Draco just stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Hermione couldn't meet anyone's eyes. Finally, when Snape spoke, it wasn't what anyone was expecting.

"I will be back," he stalked to the opening of the curtains but paused when Madam Pomfrey stopped him with the desperation in her voice.

"But, what do you think?"

In an annoyed tone, he replied, "I think I will be back." The older woman stepped outside the curtains to watch as Snape stalked to the door. Draco and Hermione could hear the sound of his boot heels clicking on the stone floor, a door opening and then a pause.

"I think I know what it is," Snape said, before exiting the Hospital Wing and slamming the door shut.

* * *

Severus Snape prided himself on many things; one of which was his ability as a researcher. While a successful research didn't give him as much pleasure as say…being the only Death Eater to defect the Dark Lord's ranks and survive the entire war by playing both sides, but it definitely did have its advantages.

_Like removing curses from annoying know-it-all Gryffindors._

Though, he really couldn't complain. Hermione Granger _was_ his best student. And he _did_ feel a bit bad about humiliating her so much earlier.

What? He's only human, after all, despite popular belief. Alright, maybe he didn't feel _that_ bad…

Besides, in humiliating Hermione Granger as he had, he had lost the respect of an old ally's son. That was the reason he was doing this research in the first place, to win back Draco Malfoy's respect. Not that it really mattered but Snape just couldn't have one of his own Slytherins hating him. Draco was supposed to _set_ the example of favoritism among the Slytherin students.

Oh, and because Dumbledore told him to and his word is _law._

Scanning the shelves of his private library in his chambers, Snape found the book he was looking for: a small green, leather book with silver embossings of snakes all over the cover. The book had started out blank when first bought, but now, nearly every page was filled with scribblings of spells—curses, hexes, jinxes, wards, enchantments—and potions. Most of the scribbles were just interesting things that might be useful later; many of them were of original creation of several Death Eaters. Everything in the small book was part of the Dark Arts.

It had been Snape's prerogative to take notes from his brothers in the Dark Lord's service and steal their ideas and inventions. Not necessarily for his own glory…of course not. Attaching his name to the creation of any of these spells and potions was a one way ticket to Azkaban, and for twenty years, that's exactly what Snape had avoided. No, this collection of other peoples' work was solely for the Potions master's interest and perusal. For emergencies, you could say. Not even Albus Dumbledore knew all of what was contained in this journal. Snape had decided not to share it with him unless it had something to do with the Death Eater's activities. In fact, the ex-Death Eater hadn't even glanced at this book for nearly a year.

So what a pleasant surprise it was that he found exactly what he was looking for in this small, once-blank book that was _so_ very similar to Hermione Granger's own diary.

* * *

"Look, Draco, I'm sorry for the way I've been behaving. I know you only care about me and I've been acting like a total idiot. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's about time this spell comes off. I'm glad I have you to share this experience with. I never wanted to do it alone and that's why I've never looked for more help than I needed. Thank you for being with me…" Hermione looked up from the empty chair to the mediwitch standing at the foot of the bed smiling fondly. "How's that?" she asked.

"Much better. I think, Mr. Malfoy would appreciate that apology much more than 'I still don't think you're right but I'm saying sorry anyway'." Hermione nodded.

After his stomach had grumbled rather loudly, Hermione had told Draco to go off to lunch, that she would be fine without him for a few minutes. He hadn't liked being dismissed like that— mainly because he thought she wanted to get rid of him—but after her assurances that that wasn't the case, he had left for the Great Hall reluctantly. Hermione had just finished her lunch of a cheese sandwich and water before she asked Madam Pomfrey what was going wrong with her relationship.

"He cares for you and he doesn't want his concern to be brushed aside as you're doing. You know as well as anyone that Mr. Malfoy isn't used to showing concern. He thinks you just don't want _him_ to care for you," she had said.

"But that's not true!" Hermione had rebutted. "I do want him to care for me, just not about _this_. He has to see that."

"Unfortunately, Miss Granger, men are usually blind to the obvious. It's not their fault, the poor dears; they were just born that way." Hermione chuckled. It seemed as if her fondness for the older woman was growing the longer they talked. The Head Girl had always known the mediwitch for her stern nature, but never as funny too. "Don't look so surprised, dear. I _do _have a sense of humor, you know." Both women smiled at that.

"So, what do you think I should do?" Hermione asked, looking slightly crestfallen.

"Apologize, of course! The way I see it, Mr. Malfoy has done no wrong."

Well, at the time, Hermione hadn't thought she'd done any wrong either.

"How are we supposed to know who's right and who's wrong?" she asked, becoming more confused by the second. If she hadn't known it before, she knew it now: relationships are hard!

"I'm sorry to say" Madam Pomfrey had replied, "that I am not the right person to ask." At Hermione's look of befuddlement, she elaborated. "I couldn't make my own marriage work so my husband died out of spite."

The younger woman wasn't sure what to say.

"No need to feel sorry for me. We were young when we married; he was young when he died."

"Why didn't you just get a divorce?" Hermione asked. That seemed like the logical solution to an unhappy marriage.

"There is no such thing as divorce in the wizarding world. Marriage is truly 'till death do us part'. That's just something Muggles made up to get out of a problem they don't want to fix."

"Oh," Hermione said, mainly to herself, surprised that this was the first she had heard of this. She thought about Draco's impending marriage. Even though she loved him and he had no feelings for Pansy, after he and Parkinson got married, there would be no hope for Hermione. No place for her, and there was no way she would become Draco's mistress after he married. Draco would truly be lost to her.

"But no more about my life. You still have yours to focus on," Madam Pomfrey said, pulling both women out of their reveries of the past and future as she stood from the bed.

Now Hermione could hear the sound of shoes clicking on the stone. The person grew closer and the Head Girl's face lit in a smile.

"Look, Draco, I'm sorry for—" but the person who pushed aside the curtains was not Draco. Her smile faltered and her words failed.

"I hope you weren't talking to me," Snape said. Hermione noticed the green book in his hand and the resemblance between that journal and hers.

"Well?" Madam Pomfrey asked expectantly.

Snape sighed and opened his mouth to speak but the sound of the door opening had the mediwitch seeing if there was a new patient so he closed his mouth again in utter irritation.

"Oh…it's you, Mr. Malfoy."

Snape noticed how Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of her boyfriend's name.

"Don't sound too happy to see me," she heard Draco grumble back.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that! You're still a student here, young man and you will address me as Madam!"

As soon as he saw Snape though, he scowled. Taking his seat in the chair that would probably leave a print of Draco's bottom from the three hours he'd spent sitting in it, he sighed.

"Look, Draco, I'm sorry that—" she started to apologize again, staring straight into Draco's expressionless eyes, grabbing his hand in hers, but Snape interrupted once again.

"Do you _want_ to be cured or not?"

"So you _did_ find a counter curse, then?" Draco asked, his interest in his Head of House now piqued.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, just as I would have said if I had been allowed to talk." Pulling his wand out from the inside of his robes and opening his green book to a marked page, he began to read—almost chant-like—words that sounded like a different language.

Hermione wasn't sure if it was the magic of the spell that disallowed her from hearing the counter curse clearly or if the words were so mumbled that she just didn't understand. She felt as if her heart began to shed a hundred heavy layers that had been weighing her down for a year and a half. As the Potions master continued to speak his magic, she felt lighter than ever before, her head began to clear, and she felt as if she was seeing the world through different eyes. The whole world seemed to have a positive outlook now when all she had seen for that year and a half was the darkness. But no one was paying attention to her as her face seemed to shine in astonishment. No one noticed that Hermione Granger was being reborn. Or that what was broken was now fixed. _She could _feel_ the difference._

Snape closed the book and stared at Hermione with a smirk on his face. Just from watching her expression he could tell that the curse was gone. He could see the look in her eyes. Eternal gratefulness and wonder. Astonishment. Her youth was so easy to see he wished he could laugh at her.

"Hermione?" Draco had finally seen the complete look of shock on his beloved's face. She turned to face him but couldn't speak. Her brown eyes were wide with disbelief and incomprehension.

"What's wrong with her?" Draco asked savagely, fiercely turning to Snape to glare as hatefully as he could.

"She's free," he said simply. "She's getting the first taste of freedom she's had since this curse was put upon her. It was so subtle that she wouldn't even notice the presence of the curse, but now that it's gone, she can feel it."

Madam Pomfrey stepped closer to the Head Girl as tears of joy leaked from the young girl's eyes. Using her wand again to scan her body, she read the gold stats that flowed from the tip of the wand and vanished them with a snap.

"She's still here. Everything's in order. Physically fine," she said, feeling a bit unnerved by those wide brown eyes staring into nothingness. "What was the spell, Severus?"

The Potions master conjured himself and the mediwitch a chair and both sat down with a sigh.

"I don't know what it is called but it was created by Antonin Dolohov. This spell was meant to be spoken. Most spells can be used nonverbally but in Dolohov's case…his sense of humor was always slightly twisted," this last he spoke mostly to himself. "The true nature of this curse, had it been spoken, would have been fatal for Miss Granger immediately."

Hermione had pulled out of her stupor to hear the explanation of the curse that had plagued her so. Now she looked slightly frightened that she had _just barely_ escaped death. This time was closer than almost being clobbered by a troll, killed by a basilisk's gaze, or anything she had encountered in that last battle that brought down Lord Voldemort.

"What would have happened to me?" she asked, alerting the other's that she had returned to her senses.

Snape seemed to appraise her for a moment, deciding if she could handle the truth or not and then shrugged.

"You would have immediately been wracked with heaves that would have emptied your entire body of all of your blood."

She gulped but Draco's hand snaked into hers and grasped it severely, almost afraid to let go. Hermione was grateful for that contact and support. She drew her strength from Draco.

"But Dolohov made sure that even if the incantation couldn't be spoken, the victim would still be cursed." Now that he had everyone's complete attention again, he continued. "The spell had a sort of side effect, you could say. It didn't kill you right away but if you had stayed distressed long enough, it would have made sure that you died in the same intended way.

"Dolohov considered this as his own personal practical joke, of course, with the joke on you. The side effect was that whenever you get severely distressed, you throw up blood. The joke was in that the spell also gave you the means to throw up."

"What the hell does that mean?" Draco asked cruelly. Madam Pomfrey glared at his use of language but since she wasn't a teacher, couldn't take off points. And since Snape was feeling so much better now that he was in the limelight, he didn't take off points either.

"It means, Mr. Malfoy, that the spell heightened Miss Granger's emotions. Instead of waiting for her to get emotional enough to react to the curse, it increased her distress so that she _would_ react. If she did not have that diary to release her emotions in, she would have died from loss of blood sooner or later."

Stunned silence dominated for most of a minute. Hermione's eyes were wide again in disbelief at her close encounter with death. Draco squeezed her hand so hard that her fingers began to fall asleep without blood circulation. Madam Pomfrey was in the same state of disbelief but she only had the apron of her robes to concentrate on.

"But how do we know it is completely gone?" Draco asked in a quieter voice.

Reaching for what was left of the potion on Hermione's bed side table, he handed the flask to Hermione.

"One sip this time," he told her. As she drank he said, "Do you know much about this potion, Draco?" The Head Boy shook his head slowly. "It monitors all the magic in the body. Whatever is glowing blue is natural magic. Squibs wouldn't glow at all." Snape smirked. "When something glows red, a spell is affecting that area. Pink means the spell is temporary. Green is for potions and a fainter green means the magic has temporary effects. When nothing but blue is glowing," he motioned towards Hermione who watched in astonishment as her body only glowed blue, "there is nothing affecting the person at all."

"I'm free," she whispered as the glowing faded. "I'm really free!" she cried louder.

Throwing herself out of the bed and into her disbelieving boyfriend's arms in the chair opposite, she began to cry into his chest, this time, unafraid of reactions from her emotion.

* * *

**(A/N): Okay! There you go! The solution to a horrible problem and the second part of that whole diary ordeal! Those of you kind readers who hung around despite the "lame" secret behind Hermione's diary have now been rewarded. Now that that's over, things can start getting nasty…**

**Oh, and I still need a beta. Check bottom Author's Notes in Chapter 24 for details and blah, blah, blah.**

**Okay, then! A year after this story started and still going strong! Without the readers and reviewers, this story would be nothing. I mean it. Thanks, all, and as always, quick updates are not guaranteed, but I will try. So, see you in Chapter 26!**


	26. The Storm Subsides

**(A/N): Muchas gracias, everyone, for the reviews! Lovely, lovely people all of you. The last chapter was my favorite so far… but now things are going to get really interesting… so check the warning below.**

**Jaejae: NEVER! No, of course this isn't the end. You'll know when it is the end because I will write a nice little Author's Note that will say it is the end. Thanks for the review!**

**morning-flower: For my story, I made that the curse on Hermione came from Antonin Dolohov in the Ministry of Magic at the end of Order of the Phoenix. If you remember, I think Dolohov was silenced so he wasn't able to speak the spell but it hit Hermione anyway. I just made up what the effects of that spell were. Anyways, as for your suggestions: just wait and see! There's a lot of stuff coming up! Thanks for the review!**

**FallenMadness88: Hmmm…naughty or break up? Let's just say that my comment last chapter was intended for events after this chapter. What are those events? You'll just have to see… Thanks for the review!**

**the singer: Wow, wow, wow! What a compliment! I sort of agree that the horcrux thing, though clever, seemed like a deux ex machina for being introduced so late. Maybe it will seem like a better idea when the seventh book comes out. Thanks bunches for the review!**

**princessgrl: I don't think it is weird that you almost cried, in fact—if _this_ isn't too weird—that makes me happy! I once told someone in a review that being able to make someone _feel_ something through their writing (her story was sad, I cried!) was the mark of a great writer. Haha. I can only hope that is the case here! Anyways, thank you so much! **

**(A/N): Thank you to these reviewers too: **AnaDry, Sarah Burla, supafly09, marie, omg,instantstargrl, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, SexyDraco04, TaurusGirl, the-lunacy-fringe, -mz chinagurl-, Lauressa, **and **flip chick. **And I can't not thank my new beta **Lyndsie Fenele** who's been a huge help so far. Any mistakes you may see are a result of my own fiddling after she sent the chapter back. Thanks for the great review as well, Lyndsie!**

**Warning: For sexual content. Even though it isn't that graphic, I am going to raise the rating just in case. Just letting you know!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters, settings, and terminology belong the wonderful goddess, J.K. Rowling. The song is 'I Could Fall in Love' by Selena, may she rest in peace.

* * *

**

**The Storm Subsides:**

It felt like hours before Hermione's wailings of happiness had stopped. Snape had left to tend to his abandoned classes and Madam Pomfrey had said that Hermione was allowed to leave. Hermione noticed none of this. Wiping the last of the tears from her face, Draco kissed her on the lips and hugged her tight.

"I'm a mess," she said, her voice hitching and a watery smile coming to her lips.

"No, of course not," Draco said. He kissed her again until she was breathless and told her that as soon as she got dressed, they could leave. Five minutes later, they were chasing each other around the lake in their extreme happiness that the curse was lifted.

And her emotion was absolutely genuine.

At one point, Hermione had very nearly jumped into the lake, but Draco had stopped her before she could finish taking off her shoes. They walked hand in hand all over the castle as she talked about anything and everything, her smile too infectious to keep off of both of their faces—and her mouth never once stopping. But it was fine with Draco to just listen to her voice and to hear about her life. In that hour that they walked nowhere, he learned more about Hermione than he had ever known before.

They ended up on the seventh floor at the portrait that hid the Gryffindor common room.

"Password?" the portly woman in the portrait asked and Hermione gave it. As the entrance to the common room was revealed, Draco pulled on the Head Girl's arm to keep her from going inside.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"Do you think it's a good idea for me to go in there, or were you planning on leaving me here?" he replied. His voice held no malice or anger even though his words said otherwise.

Hermione smiled at him as if he was being silly. "Don't be ridiculous. You're practically a Gryffindor yourself now!" Then she bounded through the portrait hole, leaving Draco to glare at the Fat Lady in resentment.

"I'm not a bloody Gryffindor!" he grumbled to himself.

"Well, are you going in?" the portrait asked, looking at him suspiciously, knowing he wasn't a Gryffindor and that he wasn't technically allowed past. Grumbling still, he entered to find Hermione waiting for him, that smile on her face that could melt anyone's stern resolve. His mood immediately lifted and he felt warm all over from seeing her.

_Ridiculous…_ he thought. _Like a love-sick school boy!_

_'But you _are_ a love-sick school boy,' _his father's voice echoed through his mind. _'Disgusting, isn't it?' _

Draco wanted desperately for the voice to stop. He knew it was his subconscious, or his conscience, more like, really voicing everything negative about himself or about what he was doing. The voices only made him feel guilty; like he was cheating himself from being happy or cheating Hermione from seeing him happy. The day Lucius's voice left his head, he thought, would be the day he married Hermione, but as it was right now he couldn't see that happening.

"Hello?"

Draco blinked. Hermione was waving a hand in front of his face and smiling at him in concern.

"You were miles away," she said.

"I'm right here," he replied, sliding his hand into hers. "And this is where I'll stay." He made sure his voice was quiet enough that no one else would hear him around the common room. He realized that this was his first time seeing another common room besides the Slytherin one. Looking around at all the reds and browns, the homey feel of the place, the warmth and the feeling of companionship he got, he preferred the dank and cold of the dungeons. Maybe it was just his prejudice against the Gryffindors, but he _really _didn't want to be there.

"Come on," he heard Hermione say as she pulled him through the room. People were staring at them and whispering. A few people came up to Hermione and said something that he couldn't hear, though he noticed that her face was getting sourer by the person.

Finally, one girl Draco supposed was in sixth year came up to the couple and said, "Hey, I know you from Ginny Weasley. We all heard about what happened in your Potions class today." Draco's eyes widened in surprise. Who did this girl think she was? Whispering now, she continued, "I'm really sorry about…your _condition_."

Uh, oh…

Draco was so sure that Hermione was going to snap. She had the last time _he_ had phrased her reactions in that way. But instead—miraculously, might it be added—her face cleared and she smiled.

Putting her hands on the girl's shoulders, she said, "Thank you so much for your concern. It means a lot to me." Hermione's eyes sparkled and her smile widened. After pulling the alarmed girl into her arms for a hug, Hermione literally _skipped_ to a door near a spiral staircase and pushed it open. Everyone just stared at her as she disappeared behind the door and then the only thing they had to stare at was Draco. Running to catch up to Hermione before the door shut and he was stuck in the lions' den, he pushed himself through and found himself in… Hermione's room.

"How…" he gasped, looking around at the familiar surroundings. He had only been in the room nearly two months ago and it hadn't changed at all.

"Oh, right…" Hermione said, looking a bit sheepish. "About that… There's something I never got around to telling you." Crossing his arms, Draco sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Out with it." His voice was more resigned than angry.

"Well, you remember that letter that was sitting on the side table that first night back from holiday?" At his nod, she continued. "It sort of explained how the doors work. Like the doors connected to our rooms can only be opened by the respectful resident—which it looks like you figured out, eh heh—and when the shower is run in the bathroom, both bathroom doors lock automatically so no one can enter. There was also a thing about if you knock on the front door to your room three times then open it, it will lead you to your House common room. Heh heh," she smiled an exaggerated smile to placate him but his eyes were stormy. "Awww...Come on, Draco! Don't be like this! You've just gotten a lot more exercise than me when you've gone down to the Slytherin common room! Look on the bright side!"

"There is no bright side," he grumbled but he accepted her when she pushed herself into his arms and onto his lap.

Now, Hermione lay on her bed staring at the scarlet satin canopy. She was exhausted of happiness and so tired. She felt like sleeping but when she closed her eyes, the only thing she saw was Draco's pale ones. Oh, how she would love to go to sleep and just dream of those eyes all night! But her mind wouldn't let her rest. Whenever her brain was too full of thoughts she usually had a nice hot cup of cocoa and she fell right asleep. At least, when she was at home and could make the drink herself.

She remembered a time that summer right after fifth year when she was worried that Harry would do something irrational and stupid after being attacked by dementors at his Muggle family's home. Wandering around in the kitchen, she had dropped a pot to boil water, making a loud racket that sounded like a gunshot in the still quietness. Both of her parents came running down the stairs to find Hermione standing in the middle of the kitchen, frozen in place and pale, bending over to pick up the offending pot. Before she could explain herself or say a word, her dad went to the cupboard for the instant hot cocoa while her mum fetched the marshmallows. They listened to Hermione talk about her worries as they waited for the water to boil.

These memories made tears come to Hermione's eyes. It was at times like these, when she was so happy and couldn't share her excitement with her parents, that she missed them the most.

_Oh, god! I haven't even written them with the news yet!_

Jumping off the bed, she ran to her trunk to grab some extra parchment and a quill. While digging through her belongings, she found the color changing ink she had bought at Fixation that summer. The ink well brought back the memory of her cowardice and the shame she had felt for the pointless emotion at the time. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she thought, _I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I am going to be happy in it._

_I can choose which it shall be._

Yes, she had that power now. The curse was gone. The diary was buried deep within her trunk out of sight, never to be used again.

_Totally free…_

Closing her trunk, she smiled and took up her parchment, her quill, and the ink she had not yet used, taking it downstairs to sit in front of the fire. Half an hour later, the letter was done but since it was nearly midnight, and way past curfew, she could not send it yet. But what to do about her insomnia? Draco was currently out patrolling, doing his rounds as Head Boy to make sure no one was out past curfew. Maybe if she was careful, she wouldn't get caught… even with Mrs. Norris, Filch, and Snape out and about also.

It was decided then. Putting her finished letter and writing materials on the side table, she rushed upstairs to don her school robes over her pajamas and her shoes. Sneaking out the portrait hole, she silenced her feet from making noise.

Finally, she made it to the portrait of a bowl of fruit without being detected by anyone. She tickled the pear and waited for it to turn into a door handle before entering. The Hogwarts kitchen was as silent as the grave. As soon as Hermione stepped inside torches hanging on the walls blared to life, sending shadows darting between the tables and stools. She half expected a drooling house elf to jump on her as soon as she entered, begging to wait on her hand and foot. To her ironic disappointment, there was no one there. She supposed she could make the hot chocolate by herself but she had no idea where anything was. Pots and pans hung from racks on the ceiling—_How did the house elves reach them?—_but there didn't seem to be any food in sight. A shuffling sound startled her from her silent reverie as she twirled on the spot and found one small, familiar creature bowing before her.

"Can I's be helping Miss?" the dark shape asked.

"Oh! Thank you, Dobby. I just wanted some hot chocolate." She had barely finished her sentence before Dobby was darting around the kitchen, supposedly making Hermione's drink. A few moments later, he was handing a scalding hot drink into her hands. Gasping and nearly dropping the mug, she quickly did a cooling charm and sat herself down at one of the house tables in the room. Dobby stood at her feet, staring up at her with his wide, tennis ball eyes, rubbing his hands in nervousness.

"Have a seat," Hermione offered but the house elf immediately burst into tears. Startled Hermione tried to speak but the smaller creature's wails drowned her out.

"Miss is being so kind! She is treating me like an equal!"

It took several minutes for Hermione to calm him back down enough to actually sit down with her and then he refused any of her hot chocolate; and she had to admit, the stuff was good. Chocolaty, rich, and hot enough to kill her taste buds; definitely way better than the instant cocoa she used to make at home.

"Is Miss wanting Dobby to leave?" the house elf asked from beside her. Hermione's thoughts were so focused on how amazing her drink was that she hadn't spoken a word.

Looking surprised from over her mug as she took another sip, she replied, "Of course not, Dobby! You can stay. I was just thinking, is all. You're not bothering me, if that's what you think." Dobby didn't reply. Instead, he twiddled his thumbs and twisted his fingers in such a way that Hermione was afraid that he would snap them off his hand. "Is there something troubling you?" she asked, in concern for the house elf.

"Dobby is hearing things from the castle and he is wanting to know if theys is true, Miss," he said, still as nervous as ever, his body shaking all over.

Hermione put her mug of cocoa down and placed a hand on his pale grey shoulder. "What is it? You can ask me." It seemed like her kindness was too much again because Dobby broke out into sobs that echoed off of the kitchen walls and the pots hanging on the racks above them. The Head Girl tried to calm the elf down but could only wait until his wailing ceased. The very last thing she needed was for someone—most likely Snape or Filch—to hear the racket coming from inside the kitchen and find the Head Girl out of bed at nearly midnight.

"Please, Dobby! Be quiet! You're going to get me into trouble!" she cried with poorly hidden desperation, as she tried to grab the elf and quiet him down. Finally, Dobby wiped his tearless eyes nervously and blinked up at her from the bench beside her. "Just ask me what you wanted to ask me. _Please,_" Hermione said with relief and exhaustion.

"Dobby is hearing that Miss is spending lots of time with my old young master. Dobby is wondering if this is true! Is Miss spending time with Master Malfoy?" If the little creature had been standing on the floor, he would have been rocking backwards and forwards with nerves, but as it was, he merely trembled, afraid that Hermione might hit him or some other gesture.

Staring and smiling at her mug, she replied, "Yes, it's true." Dobby looked at her with wet wide eyes but refrained from saying anything unpleasant about his old family. Seeing the look of apprehension on his face, Hermione spoke.

"He's changed, Dobby. Maybe not for a lot of people, but he's changed for me. Maybe you know how we used to hate each other, but that is the very last thing we have now. Really, he's kind and he's gentle and he cares for me. And I care for him. Okay?" The small wrinkly elf nodded emphatically and spoke not another word. Taking a last sip from her hot chocolate, Hermione rose from her seat and placed her mug on the table.

"That was delicious. Thank you for making it for me." Reaching into her robe pockets, she found a spare Knut and handed it to the elf.

Bouncing out of his seat and hopping on the floor, Dobby held the coin in both hands and said excitedly, "Oh, thank you, Miss! Dobby is most grateful! Thank you!"

Patting the creature on the head, she left through the portrait hole and made her way back to the Head common room. Draco should be finishing his rounds about now. Maybe she could meet him at the door. At this prospect, she smiled and quickened her pace, carelessly humming now that she had forgotten that she could still get caught.

On the Grand Staircase, when she was close to the fourth floor, she heard footsteps in the dark below her.

There was someone coming up the stairs, too.

_Oh, no. A teacher!_

She stopped her humming immediately and made a mad dash up the stairs to get to the fourth floor corridor. Upon hearing her running, the person behind her began to run after her. While she ran, the person following never shouted at her or called out. She figured it was Filch. Many students had been caught by the caretaker over his years of service at Hogwarts, but what he hadn't known was the number of students he _hadn't_ been able to catch. The number was quite vast. Students knew that they could at least outrun Filch if they heard him coming. He usually advertised his whereabouts with shouting, lanterns, or unnecessary clunking about; but when Mrs. Norris, his cat, led him to wherever misbehaving students were, they were mincemeat. Filch had finally figured this out some time ago and had opted to keep silent when sneaking up on students. Unfortunately for him, his efforts were wasted, because his boots were still big clunkers and he couldn't do any magic to silence them.

On the other hand, Snape was as silent as darkness and always surprised students when he patrolled the halls. This made Hermione certain that her pursuer was Filch instead.

She felt much freer once her feet had touched the stones of the fourth floor and she allowed herself to slow down again. This time she made sure that her steps were silent. Her silence charm had worn off and she hadn't thought to reapply it before. Rounding the corner of the hall her portrait hole was on, she leaned against the wall to catch her breath, trying to still her body and keep from making too much noise. Her heart was pounding in her chest, feeling much too big for her ribcage. After a time the muscle began to settle and return to its normal beating. She was just about to make her way to Elizabeth's portrait before someone jumped around the corner and grabbed her upper arms.

"Hey!" she screamed in alarm, her heart jumping into her throat. Struggling for a few seconds, she didn't think to look at her attacker's face. But when she finally looked up, the moon's light through the window was at his back and left his face in shadow.

"Hermione?"

She stopped struggling.

"Draco?"

Grabbing his upper arms, Hermione turned him sideways and a bit to the left so that the light from the window could catch his face. There before her stood her platinum-haired, silver-eyed boyfriend.

"What are you doing up?" he asked her as she let go of Draco's arms.

"I couldn't sleep," she replied.

"So you decided to wander the castle past curfew?"

Hermione smiled. "When I'm at home I usually have hot chocolate when I have trouble sleeping."

"Doesn't that have caffeine in it?"

She thought about it a moment and rubbed her chin. "Hmmm. Maybe so. I guess caffeine just doesn't affect me as it should." She shrugged but Draco was still holding her arms tight. "I know you love me but could you let go now. You have a strong grip."

Draco's face blanched but he let go. She knew he loved her? How could she possibly know? How did she find out?

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked him, rubbing his cheek gently with her cold fingers. While their common room was basked in a glow of warmth from the hearth fire, the corridors of the castle were not. The Head Girl could feel the goose bumps forming on his skin where she touched him, but his eyes never wavered from hers. She leaned up to kiss the cheek she had just caressed and she could hear the delicate sigh the action released from his lips. "Your face went funny," she said.

Draco realized that she didn't know that he loved her, that she was just being the silly girl that she was, just like that day in Potions class when they had been passing notes to each other.

"My face did _not_ go funny," he said, affronted when she giggled.

"Of course not. Your face is very handsome." She patted his cheek again.

"Thank you," he said, very much pleased with himself and showing it on his face.

"Arrogant git!" she muttered playfully.

Draco was prevented from replying when she opened her mouth wide enough to drive a car in and yawned.

"I think it's time for bed," he said. Hermione sleepily nodded in agreement. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they finished the walk to the portrait hole.

"Iunctum Inimicus."

"It's about time," Elizabeth yawned. "Do you know what time it is?" Her words were met with silence as the Head Boy and Girl entered their common room, suddenly too exhausted to even speak.

Draco was about to let Hermione go at the foot of her staircase when she suddenly whispered shyly, "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

He blinked twice, wondering if he had heard right. God, he would let her into his bed whenever she wanted, she didn't even have to ask. She was looking up at him through her eyelashes, her eyelids drooping heavily and she was already leaning on him, her head on his shoulder.

"Tonight. Any night. Every night. It doesn't matter and you don't have to ask," he finally replied. She smiled and blushed, looking away from his honest, beautiful eyes. His words left her feeling warm and wanted and slightly nervous.

He led her up her stairs and across the balcony over the private library to his door. With one push, they were in. Hermione stood by the door, uncertain of what would be appropriate for her to do now. Of course, sleeping in another boy's bed wasn't really appropriate in a boarding school, but the thought never fazed her.

"You can climb in if you want," Draco said. She nodded and slipped her shoes from her feet. Then with a pink blush coloring her cheeks, she pulled her robes up over her head. Folding the black material neatly, she gently placed it on a chair and pulled the silver curtains back from the bed. She was not aware of Draco's eyes on her back as she pulled the green duvet back and carefully got in. He noticed that she was trying not to disrupt anything too much within his personal space and felt an upwelling of love for her thoughtful gesture.

_'Sickening.' _But this time, he was able to ignore the voice in his head. He _did_ love Hermione. Once upon a time, he had thought that that made him weak, but he knew better now. His love for Hermione and her support for him could only make him stronger. Gods knew it definitely made him feel wanted and needed. And loved. His mother had given him love, but what he and Hermione had was so different that nothing could compare with it.

Pulling his robes over his own head, Draco stood in nothing but his black boxers. His back was to the bed but he knew (and was pleased with the prospect) that Hermione was watching him. He couldn't help but feel embarrassed with his half-nakedness even though she had seen him undressed the same way twice before.

_It's one thing to already be undressed when she sees you and quite another to _get_ undressed in front of her, _he thought. He knew he wasn't the most pleasant sight to behold naked. His skin was too pale and even paler where his clothes blocked his skin from the sun's harsh rays. His body was thin and he wasn't miraculously defined in a muscular way because of his lack of physical activities (besides Quidditch, and how much muscle did that take?) all of his life. But Hermione seemed to find something attractive about him. Otherwise she wouldn't have even wanted a truce with him, would she? He still had no idea why she started that pact with him. Where was her brain that day? _He_ wouldn't have started a truce with himself if he was her. Now he realized that it was her Gryffindor faith in him that had led her to start that truce. She had trusted him to honor it and he had. Without that as a beginning, they would have never become as close as they were.

Finally turning around, his face held a smirk full with confidence. His body was posed to receive all of Hermione's attention, and his arms were held loosely at his sides. But she wasn't even looking in his direction. Her head was turned towards the window, staring into the dark that could be seen through the bed curtains, and Draco felt like a totally vain idiot.

No wonder he wasn't that popular with anyone outside of Slytherin, personality-wise at least.

Trying to act as casual as possible—as if Hermione spent the night by his side every night—he climbed into the bed and lay down. Hermione turned on her side to see him better, but when he reached his arm out to her she snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest. The beating of his heart was the only sound she could hear and the heat from his body was the only thing she could feel. Everything else was numb and out of focus. Nothing else mattered.

The rise and fall of his chest was calming and soothing. Her hands drew small circles around his belly button and stomach, his breathing stalling every few seconds. She was half asleep before either of them realized that she was humming.

"What's that?" he asked, his voice hoarse with sleep as well.

"Hmm?"

"You're humming. What is it?"

Hermione lifted her head and rested her chin on the top of her hand, which was flat on his chest. Her eyes searched his for a reaction or an answer to a question she hadn't even asked yet.

"May I sing it for you?" she asked.

He blinked in surprise once again. In all the time he had _really_ gotten to know her this year, this girl—no, this woman—had never ceased to surprise and amaze him. He didn't think that she would ever sing for him again.

Trying to sound casual once again, he replied with a simple, "Sure."

Her voice was shaky with exhaustion and nerves in the beginning, but she kept eye contact with him. Her goal of revealing the mysteries of Draco's eyes, she hoped, would be achieved if she sang the song just right—if she said the right thing—if she did what she had to do.

_"I could lose my heart tonight_

_If you don't turn and walk away._

_'Cause the way I feel I might_

_Lose control and let you stay._

_'Cause I could take you in my arms_

_And never let you go!"_

Hermione's face was flushed in embarrassment and nervousness. Would he understand the true meaning of the song? Did he realize that the only times she had ever sung for him, her words had expressed exactly how she felt? His eyes still told her nothing. His face was still as blank as a painter's canvas.

_"I could fall in love with you._

_I could fall in love with you._

_I could only wonder how_

_Touching you would make me feel."_

His silver irises flickered at that and he finally blinked. Her eyes never wavered in fear that she would lose her courage or that he would look away. It was vitally important to her that they kept their eye contact. Her heart beat faster at the words that would come next, afraid that he would reject her.

_"But if I take that chance right now,_

_Tomorrow would you want me still?_

_So I should keep this to myself_

_And never let you know!"_

Oh, God. She wanted so much to tell him that even though it was unthinkable, inconceivable, unbelievable, she loved him to no end. It made absolutely no sense. They'd been dating for two weeks and yet, she felt like she had loved him all her life. This song was the only way she could tell him these feelings without actually telling him, and the words fit perfectly with how she felt.

_"I could fall in love with you._

_I could fall in love with you._

_And I know it's not right,_

_But I guess I should try_

_To do what I should do._

_But I could fall in love,_

_Fall in love with you!"_

Draco stopped her there, pulling the rest of her body on top of him and her head towards his mouth. Their kiss was uncontrollable, full of unadulterated lust, and it told Hermione exactly what Draco thought of the song. His lips were caressing hers and she sighed, feeling like she had just come home again. Splayed out on top of him, Hermione felt a rock hard…_thing_…pushing into the juncture between her legs. She gasped when she realized what it was, lifting her head and breaking the kiss. A great shudder wracked her body and she felt a tingle start in her toes and jump to her abdomen. Her body was heating very quickly and her eyes were wide in surprise.

In that surprise, she rolled off of Draco and lay on her back.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, pulling the duvet close to his waist and turning onto his side to face Hermione. "I'm sorry…" He couldn't find the words to say _I didn't mean to push you like that _or _I wasn't going to ask you to sleep with me_, but he knew he wouldn't be able to lie even if he did have the words to speak. The embarrassment of his body's reaction to the closeness of hers brought color to his face and he refused to meet her eyes.

He was aware of her breath close to his face and when he looked up, she was leaning in closer to him.

"Don't be sorry," she said breathlessly. Her eyes were wide and such a deep colored brown that he couldn't look away. He was barely conscious of her hand reaching for the hand that held the comforter to his body and pulling both away. She reached out, about to touch him through his boxers but when he sucked in a breath, she changed course and placed her palm flat on his abdomen instead.

"Kiss me, Draco," she commanded. Who was he to ignore such an order? Once their mouths were united again, her body shifted closer to his until they were flush against each other. His hardness pressed into her abdomen but when Draco tried to pull away, she wrapped one leg around one of his, trapping him in place.

"Hermione…" he warned in a gruff voice. She shifted against him again and he groaned. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his eyes fluttering closed.

"I have an idea," she replied with a small smile on her face even as she blushed at her boldness to move against him in such a way. Her hands explored his chest, tracing intricate designs on his pale skin. Trails of fire left his body shivering from his bellybutton all the way to his neck but his eyes remained closed tight. Her breath was warm against his cheek as one of her arms wrapped around his neck. She felt like she couldn't get close enough to his body.

"Hermione…" he groaned again, his hand rubbing her back underneath her pajama top. He could feel the smoothness and the bareness of that expanse of skin and it was not helping his reaction to her at all.

She shivered under his touch and before he knew it, she had pulled her tank top over her head. Lying side by side, they stared into each other's eyes, both terribly embarrassed and afraid to look anywhere else. Draco's hands lingered on her shoulders and one ran down the one arm she wasn't lying on. He was hesitant to touch the now exposed skin. Hermione grabbed the hand and placed it at her waist, running it slowly up her side. Draco's eyes fluttered closed as his hand made contact with her breast and Hermione's breathing hitched. Just the feeling of his warm hand touching her was something she had never felt before. Of course, she scrubbed her body down when she showered and she touched her own skin when she dressed every morning, but she never knew that if _someone else_…

The thought wracked her body with tingles and heat. Closing the space between their bodies, she kissed him, crushing her chest to his. He moaned deep in his throat and she was barely aware of sounds she was making herself. His erection was still digging into her stomach almost painfully for them both. Both teenagers were very acutely aware of it and its implications.

"Hermione," Draco said for the third time as he pulled away from her lips. Her eyes focused on him immediately, giving him her full attention. "We don't have to—"

She touched his face gently, placing a finger on his lips. "I know. If I didn't want to, I would have stopped this a long time ago." His hand lingered on the waistband of her flannel pants; a finger was dipped inside rubbing circles on her hip.

"Are you sure?" he asked and he knew that his voice was shaking; he knew that every principal he had lived by two months ago had been thrown out the window. His love for Hermione had changed him and yet, it hadn't. How he was now, he thought, was how he might have been had he been raised in a proper family with better values. It didn't make any sense—he'd thought that a million times for two weeks—but he loved her more than anything. The last thing he'd want to do was hurt her.

Her eyes shone with a brilliant light and his heart jumped in his rib cage.

"I'm sure. So sure that whatever we do tonight, I won't regret it in the morning. I'm positive."

He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

"I love you, Draco."

At first he wasn't sure that he had heard her. Her voice had been so soft, so smooth that it could have easily been a figment of his non-existent imagination. When he opened his eyes again, she was looking at him with embarrassment and worry. He realized that she was afraid of what he would say and he knew that he had heard correctly.

"I don't know how, Hermione, but I love you too," he said in the same tone of voice. "So much, I'm afraid." Her eyes widened but she did nothing else. They waited for something to happen, though they didn't know what.

His lips turned and lifted into the smirk that fit naturally on his face. Hermione smiled as she kissed his lips lightly and said, "There's the Draco I know and love." The confidence he exuded was contagious and Hermione was feeling bold once again. Reaching for his boxers, her hand also fiddled with his waistband, two fingers dipping inside at his hip.

"I love you, too," he said once again, as if to make sure that she had heard him or to reassure himself that he had said it. And as they did away with the rest of their clothing, they set about proving exactly how much the love foreach other resided within them each.

* * *

**(A/N): I'm so sorry for the long wait but this chapter was horrendous. I had to force it out of my head and I was so unhappy with it. Very close to finishing it, I had thought about scrapping it all and starting this chapter over. Thank goodness I didn't because I feel much better about it now. Again, quick updates are not guaranteed but I will try my hardest. I have a feeling everything is going to be smooth rolling from here. I'm so excited about this half of the story! I think there are about three or four chapters left so the story is almost over! So, see you all in Chapter 27!**


	27. Too Good To Be True

**(A/N): Thank you to **katija, fanfreak06, UhistheSound, MIDNIGHT-PIXIE, jc 2021, MystikalFairy, erika geremia, Benji **(My 300th reviewer!)**, Jaejae, Anticlownperson, liven4life, princessgrl, SexyDraco04, flip chick, Oo Soul of Fire oO, Miss undRstOOd, **and** shewhodanceswithdragons **for your reviews! If I've forgotten anyone, it's my own bloody fault for waiting so long to write the chapter. Thanks also go to my wonderful beta **Lyndsie Fenele.** Any mistakes you might see are from my own fiddling when I got the chapter back.**

**(Disclaimer): Harry Potter and all related settings, characters, and terminology belong to the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling. I'm only using them for my own fun.**

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**Too Good To Be True:**

Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast alone. It took all of her determination and will power to keep from smiling at everybody and letting them know how happy she was. That would just lead to questions about _why_ she was so happy, and just thinking about what she would have to cover up made her blush in embarrassment. It was hard enough just to keep the spring out of her step, but it was made much easier by the soreness she felt as she walked. Springing through the Great Hall would have been unbearable.

She was truly happy, though, and she felt like today she could love everyone.

Looking at the scowling figures at the Slytherin table, she didn't think she could produce a single negative thought about any of them. Turning to scan the head table, she caught sight of Snape and couldn't bring herself to hate him for what he had done to her while under the influence of the _Imperium Corporis_. All she could think about was how he was the one who had lifted Dolohov's curse. Today, nothing could bother her.

_I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today._

How true it was.

Hermione continued to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Harry, Ron, and Ginny all looked subdued and stared at their oatmeal as if it had done them great personal injury. She sighed in contentment as she fixed a bowl as well.

"What are you so happy about?" Ron grumbled at his bowl of offending food.

Hermione smiled teasingly even as she blushed and said, "What are you so _un_happy about?"

Ginny answered first. "It's the first Quidditch game of the season and we're playing against Slytherin. We've seen them at practice. They've got a new Chaser that can score goals in mere minutes! He's fast as a bloody falcon! How are we going to beat them this year?"

Hermione had forgotten about the Quidditch game. She looked to Draco, to see him already dressed in his game robes and leathers, consulting his teammates with a determined look on his face. She knew how much beating Harry this year meant to him and wondered briefly how far he would go to win. Knowing him, his tactics would probably border on ruthless.

Then another thought struck her. Last night and this morning, Hermione hadn't remembered the game. Had he? He didn't say anything about it. What if he was tired from their late night—er—activities? She did _not _want to be the reason Slytherin lost.

Hermione was suddenly startled from her thoughts by Harry's voice.

"Oh, come on now!" he exclaimed, finally breaking eye contact with his breakfast. "We've beaten Slytherin every time we've played them, and under some hard-to-beat conditions, too! What about the time when Slytherin had faster brooms than the rest of us? Or when they made Hufflepuff play us in that terrible weather but we beat them later that year anyhow?" Most of the Gryffindors—even those not on the team—were murmuring and nodding in agreement. Harry was now standing from the table and Hermione could tell that his blood and excitement were pumping for the game ahead. "Did we ever give up despite the odds against us?"

"No!" Ginny and Ron replied as if they had just been horrifically insulted.

"Are we a better team than Slytherin?" This attracted the attention of the Slytherins and Ravenclaws sitting close by, who turned to stare at the enthusiasm of the Gryffindors as if they were a demented race of flobberworms.

"Yes!" answered Ginny, Ron, and the rest of the Quidditch players.

"Are we gonna win this game?"

"YES!" screamed the team along with their captain.

"THEN LET'S GO!" Harry shouted, and with that, the entire team picked up their brooms and filed out of the Great Hall, making loads of noise and annoying the Slytherins very much. Hermione's good mood was still not to be lost in the bustle of the hall and the antagonism of the two houses. She still loved everyone.

Of course, she especially loved Draco Malfoy.

"See you later!" she called, with images of her favorite man in her head. For a few moments, she watched Draco eat his breakfast, and dug into hers as well. A little while after the Gryffindor team left, Draco led the Slytherin team out—not without a nod and a small smile to Hermione, of course. She smiled back happily, her mind wandering to what they had done the night before. But she didn't let her mind dwell on it long, because she felt her face begin to flush and someone was calling her name.

"'Ermione! 'Ermione!" Recognizing the voice right away, Hermione turned to see Claire waving at her and walking her way. The exchange student took the seat beside the Head Girl and sighed contentedly.

"Zees eez ze first time I weel get to see Ronald play Queeditch. I am so excited!"

Hermione smiled at her new friend's enthusiasm.

"O'! I almost forgot!" Claire cried, turning to Hermione with a look of epiphany on her face. "Your Draco eez also playing today, eezn't 'ee?"

"Yes, he is," she replied proudly.

"'oo, weel you cheer for?" Claire asked curiously. The Head Girl actually had to think about the question for a minute before answering.

"I guess I'll root for both teams. I know that if Slytherin loses I'm going to have to hear Draco complain, and if they win, he will be an unbearable—probably malicious—braggart," she said, rolling her eyes.

Claire didn't know what to say to that. From the amount of time she had spent with Draco she liked him, and he seemed like a good person, but what everyone else said made him seem mean and coldhearted. But if that were true, why did Hermione like him so much? She was glad Ron was easier to deal with and understand. Besides, her boyfriend was cute when he was flustered—which happened to be often.

"Do you want to go get seats now?" Hermione asked, gesturing behind her towards the doors. People were starting to leave in groups fror the Quidditch pitch. Claire smiled genially and nodded.

The two girls managed to find seats facing the center of the field, where both teams could be watched easily. The sun brilliantly lighted the field, but the wind was cold and crisp. Hermione had to Transfigure a scrap of paper she found in her pocket into a scarf since she hadn't brought one. While her hands warmed up inside the pockets of her robes, she distinctly noticed the absence of her pen and shrunken diary. She couldn't help but feel slightly bereft without it. She had carried it around on her for almost a year and a half, always checking to make sure she had it. Now that she didn't need it, she still felt uneasy with it sitting on her bookshelf all the way in her room.

A whistle blew on the ground below her and her eyes darted to the red and green figures shooting into the air on their broomsticks. The game had begun. Only minutes later, Slytherin scored the first goal. Ginny was right; the new boy was fast. Hermione searched above the players for a sign of Draco or Harry. Sure enough, they were perched on their brooms close together. They seemed to be talking. She almost thought she could see the smirk on Draco's face and the scowl on Harry's.

High up in the air, the sun glinted off Draco's hair like a beacon. She stared appreciatively as the wind blew it around his neck and forehead. The biting wind also stung his cheeks, almost bringing more color to them than she did last night.

Hermione looked around to see if anyone had noticed that _she _of all people was thinking about sex. And not just anyone having sex—Hermione having sex with Draco. If it weren't for the physical reminder between her legs, she wouldn't have thought it possible.

Last night had been amazing as far as she was concerned. Of course, she had no other experience to compare it to. There had been a moment of pain and discomfort, but Draco had wiped the tears off her face and apologized, and told her he loved her until she was calm enough to continue. Her arms wrapped around his neck and played with his hair, and Hermione marveled at the look of astonishment on his face. Had he been surprised she was a virgin? Could he not believe that they were making love after what had felt like a lifetime? Had that been _his_ first time as well?

Hermione had no way of knowing those answers, just as she had no idea of what he thought about the entire time. She wasn't even sure what she thought.

Their first coupling had been hurried and awkward—neither of them knew exactly what to do with their arms or legs, but when they had finally gotten into a rhythm they could both follow, it felt nice. Hermione could feel Draco everywhere. She could smell his scent, hear his harsh breathing, she could even taste him when she kissed the soft skin of his shoulder. He had reached a climax last night, but she wasn't quite sure that she had. She assumed that meant that she hadn't. It didn't matter to her, but she knew better than to tell Draco that.

When he collapsed on top of her, he immediately wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to his side. He fell asleep before she could say, "Want to have another go?" but murmured that he loved her into her hair. Hermione couldn't fall asleep so easily. She lay awake in the darkness for another hour staring at the man beside her, loving him more than anything.

The way they had moved caused her to believe that Draco wasn't the sex god all the girls made him out to be, but that contented her. The fewer girls to have had him, the better. She had smiled and kissed him lovingly on the temple, then repeated the words she had uttered for the first time that night in a whisper, and not long after that, sleep came.

Thinking about in now, Hermione didn't feel any different now that she wasn't a virgin any longer. She expected to feel like a woman; to feel wiser or more experienced and mature. Instead, their activity last night had caused her body to ache, but she didn't know if that was from physical exertion or because it was her first time.

As far as how she felt, Hermione could only say that she felt loved and cared for. And happy—always happy. She loved Draco more than anyone or anything in the world. She could see herself marrying him and having his children more clearly than ever before. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with Draco Malfoy at her side, but she knew it could never happen. As long as Pansy Parkinson was alive, Draco could never be Hermione's.

With that thought—the one thought to finally bring her mood down today—a whistle blew from the air somewhere in front of her. Bringing her mind to the game again, she forced a smile on her face as Harry flew around the Quidditch pitch in triumph, the Golden Snitch firmly in hand. Hermione scanned the air for Draco and found him on his broom between Harry and the ground, looking as if he was ready to tear someone's limbs off.

Claire was waving wildly at Ron and smiling so wide that she reminded Hermione of a jack-o-lantern. The Head Girl stood up to leave as Ron flew up, his head sweaty, but looking very pleased and happy.

"Hermione! Not leaving, are you?" he asked when he spied her.

"Oh, yes, I was just going to see—" but Ron had already immersed his attention in Claire and wasn't listening at all.

He looked up for a moment before she could get away and said, "They're throwing the seventh years on the team a party in Gryffindor Tower for beating Slytherin for the last time. You'll be there, right?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She never liked those parties. They were too rowdy and crowded for her liking. "I don't know, Ron, Draco…" but the redhead nodded his head.

"I know, I know. Just go, we'll see you later," he said as he climbed into the stands from his broom.

Hermione didn't need to be told twice.

"Oh, and by the way, congratulations on the game! You did great!" she cried as she left, trying to make up for not really watching the game in the first place.

She managed to catch Draco before he went to the shower rooms, standing at the edge of the pitch with his broom hanging limply in hand. He looked like a child watching as it rained on his birthday party, and she was sure he felt that way, too.

"I really wanted to beat Potter this once," he said softly as she walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Pressing her cheek against his back, she inhaled deeply and knew that his scent mixed with his Quidditch leathers and sweat was how Amortensia would smell to her now.

"I love you no matter who you lose against, Draco," she teased, squeezing his body harder when he made a sound of disgust.

He pried her fingers off himself and turned around, only to pull her to his body again. As his chin rested on top of her head, he said, "Likewise, madamoisellemademoiselle."

Hermione giggled into his chest, and all her troubles melted away.

For now, Pansy Parkinson was not betrothed to Draco, she was. For now, Lucius Malfoy was not alive. For now, the world consisted of only two teenagers more in love with each other than seemed reasonable. If only For Now could last forever.

"Draco, can I ask you about last night?" Hermione asked, without moving away. Draco's body stiffened for a moment before she felt him relax and nod.

"If I wanted to sleep with you again…I mean, I don't have to—you don't expect me to…"

His chuckle surprised her enough to pull away. The amusement in his face was apparent, but she could tell he wasn't laughing at her.

"If you are trying to ask if you can sleep with me again, the answer is yes. And no, I do not expect for us to have sex every night you grace my bed with your presence." His smirk was as close to a smile as he would allow. "I will not push you into anything you don't want," he whispered, before kissing her forehead.

Her smile was beautiful, and his response deserved a better kiss. Hermione thought Draco's mouth never tasted as sweet as when he was being sincere and looking out for her. When they pulled apart, his forehead rested on hers and his eyes drifted closed.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, and when she checked his face, his expression was serious—almost solemn.

"No," she disagreed in the same somber manner, "I don't deserve you."

It was strange, she thought, to have this grave moment in the midst of such a happy day. Hell, it was strange to have this grave moment in the midst of their relationship. Thus far, it had consisted of suspicion, doubt, anger, playfulness. Right now, in this space of time, both teenagers felt surer of themselves and each other than ever before. They had never felt so hopeless and so strengthened at the same time.

With reluctance, they finally pulled away. Until they let go of one another, they hadn't noticed how cold it was or how bright the sun was now.

Draco straightened up his emerald-green robes and gestured to the broom he had dropped a while ago.

"Care for a little spin?" he asked with a devilish smirk.

"Of course I would. I am an expert flyer now," Hermione teased in reply. The rest of the morning was spent in a daze of exhilaration as they flew through the air, neither knowing the hard times that awaited them.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_She was running through St. Mungo's__, a band of Healers dressed in lime green robes on her tail and gaining fast. Up ahead, Hermione could see Draco, his eyes flashing. She willed her legs to go faster—to get into his safe arms. He would protect her. These Healers wouldn't dare displease a Malfoy._

_His silver eyes beckoned her; she thought she could see Draco's panic for her in them. Her heart pounded in time with the slap of her bare feet on the tile and her lungs burned—she couldn't breathe. She was running slower, almost as if she was moving through tar._

_With one last burst of energy, she launched herself into Draco's arms, her breathing harsh and ragged. Looking back at the gang of Healers, she saw them stop and cautiously retreat, fear evident in their eyes._

_"Thank you, oh, thank you so much Draco!" Hermione cried, burying her face in his chest. His strong arms wrapped around her body so tight he was crushing her, but she only felt comfort._

_"You're most welcome, pet," he said._

_But the voice wasn't Draco's._

_Her muscles tensed as she looked up in horror at the face of his father and knew that Lucius Malfoy would not—_

Hermione sat up in bed panting; her body sweated and ached as if she _had_ been running through the wizard hospital.

Draco lay sleeping obliviously in bed beside her. Making sure she had not disturbed him and he would not be waking, she climbed out of bed and put on her dressing gown. The stone beneath her feet was cold as she padded silently though the dark to her own room. Once inside, her eyes scanned her bookshelf for the familiar red book. As her eyes locked on it, her heart raced and goose bumps plagued her skin. She couldn't stop shivering—because she was wearing nothing under her dressing gown, or because she hadn't written in her diary for over three weeks, she didn't know.

Cold, shaking fingers caressed the leather cover and the gold embossing as she settled herself on her own bed with a pen. Her feelings were mixed about opening the book and writing in it again. On the one hand, she had spent over a year of her life dependent on the book and she never wanted that to happen again. On the other, that curse was broken and many people kept a diary without a sinister reason for it.

_November 26, 1997_

_I've been having these nightmares about Lucius Malfoy, but before today I didn't even know it was him in the dreams. I was being chased and I thought he was Draco. I don't understand…Why am I being haunted by him now? The curse is gone. This is supposed to be behind me._

_I knew these past three weeks—three weeks of peace, of happiness, of tranquility—were too good to be true._

_What is this supposed to mean?_

Hermione paused in her writing there. She had been having that dream since the curse was lifted, but she hadn't realized it until the night Gryffindor beat Slytherin in Quidditch. The first dream had simply been Hermione being chased, but she hadn't known who was chasing her or where she was. Every night, the dream seemed to develop more and grow longer.

She bit her thumbnail with worry. After this last one, she was afraid to see what happened next. She was more afraid of what the dreams meant.

In no way did she believe in Divination, nor did she think these dreams showed her the future. Her night visions were starting to scare and worry her though. It had been two months since Draco speculated that his father was still alive. The dreams only reminded her that nothing had happened yet. Lucius had not been seen nor heard, and Narcissa was still in a coma. The dreams, she knew, were about to turn into nightmares, bringing back the old fear for her family Hermione'd had of the Malfoys and Voldemort throughout the war.

She could not be more afraid to go back to sleep than if there was lightning and thunder tearing the sky open.

"Hermione?" Draco's sleep drugged voice called from the bathroom doorway, where he stood naked. Hermione's eyes scanned his body from head to toe as if it was the first time seeing him this way.

Knowing this was the real Draco Malfoy, she tucked the diary under her duvet, stood from the bed, and walked over to him. Wrapping her arms firmly around his torso and burying her face in the nook between his shoulder and neck, she felt safer than ever before.

"Can we talk in the morning?" she asked quietly, not ready to talk about her dreams yet.

"I didn't ask to talk now," he said with sarcasm he only used with her when lacking sleep.

When she was lying next to Draco in his bed once again, Hermione laid awake for too long thinking about Lucius Malfoy's first move and where she fit into it.

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**(A/N): This story has a sequel called Dark Skies, which is complete. No more chapters here. For the rest of the story, check out DS. :)**


	28. Final Note

Author's Note:

This note will be deleted in a few days. I'm jost posting it for people who have favorited Diary of a Songbird recently and may not realize that it has a sequel. For the rest of the story, please check out Dark Skies. There will be no more chapters updated to DoaS. It is complete. Dark Skies is also complete.


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